


Booker's Ink Demonth submissions

by Booker_DeShit



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: & their fusion name is norry, 3 of the prompts are linked, 30 Days of Writing, 31 actually, AU, Alternate Universe - Animals, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Animatronic!Lacie, Autistic Henry Stein, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Character Study, Crossover, Decapitation, Families of Choice, Fluff, Foreign Language, Fusion, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Lacie Benton, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, JDS Crew Stuck in Thedas, Joey Drew is "Bendy" | Ink Bendy, Loss of Control, Men in Dresses, Mention of blood, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Minor Violence, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, Non-Graphic Violence, Old Man Drew is my name for in-game joey, One Shot Collection, One-Sided Attraction, Poetry, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Rating May Change, Self-Doubt, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sickfic, Sign Language, Suicide Attempt, Tags May Change, Temporary Character Death, The ink demonth, The studio workers as a family, Time Travel, Trilogy, a.k.a a bit of polish, all the original non something character is one & the same, and shes someone entirely different, author is autistic & henry being autistic means a lot to them, basically henry & joey are cats, basically henry & norman get fused for one of the propmts, challenge, character fusion, im using the idea that ink creatures can endlessly respawn, itll be a mini trilogy, joey made mistakes, otherwise all the other days are ok, so there, so watch out for that, sorta - Freeform, thats ruth, the original female character is the original batim character, those last 4 tags are all for day 21, which he regrets, who are trying to get their owners sammy & norman together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 20:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 18,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19384348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booker_DeShit/pseuds/Booker_DeShit
Summary: This are all my submissions based on Halfusek's Ink Demonth on Tumblr. I wanted a place where I could keep all of my One-shots together. This may not update as regularly as my Tumblr (gabibluedragon for anyone who wants to know) but it will at some point include all of my submissions.Chapter 24 is a crossover with Dragon Age: Inquisition.Trigger warnings:2. Implied death3. Minor injury4. Blood mention8. Death mention11. Dogs12. Character fusion16. Mild violence+Temporary death18. Blood mention19. Sickness21. Self-harm+Attempted suicide+Self-doubt+Blood+Knives25. Hospitals26. Cats31. DogsAsk me to tag stuff if I missed anything.





	1. 1. Music

**Author's Note:**

> Ello, peeps. Gabs & Warrior here! Before we begin this very delightful challenge, we'd like t' tell ya that some of the fics we made for these prompts, are in fact canon to our own little universe of what happened with the studio. This one, eeeeeeh. Take the last line out & ya could prolly fit it in somewhere. That being said, enjoy! P.s, tell us t' tag any triggers for ya, m'kay?

    In the days leading up to the shutting down of Joey Drew Studios, employees would often hear music coming from the Music department, even when there was meant to be no one there. The song that played had no words, but its tune was a melancholic one, & told of grief & a broken heart. It was never quite the same, yet it was unmistakably the same song. Sometimes, it was the piano that played the somber tune. Other times it would the the violin, wailing with grief. Once, even the banjo joined it's brethren in telling the tale of loss.

    The employees observed a man travelling down to the department. He never touched the instruments, they weren't his to play. Yet, with the simple flick of a single, withered finger, the music would begin. The man would lean back in a rickety, wooden chair, swaying to the beat. He'd occasionally whistle along, lost in his own head, in memories long gone.

    When the song came to an end, the man would stay. He'd get to his knees, clutching his head, his tears spilling along the floor, & ask himself where exactly had he gone wrong. His mind always sent him back, somewhere to the beginning, where the music was contained in the little radio in the centre of the small, one storey tall building. The song of the week could be heard all throughout the studio then, when little more than 5 people knew of its existence. Then he'd remember its gradual descent down, down below where the music no longer fell on awaiting ears. And he'd be reminded of the mistakes that twisted the words of joy, killing the last remnants of who he used to be.


	2. 2. Growth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't canon to my universe. But it's still nice & angsty.

    On the Studio's first anniversary, Henry bought Jo-jo a plant. With how much time they both spent cooped up indoors, the artist thought it might be a nice touch to remind them of a world outside of their work. Quite surprisingly, Jo-jo took great care of it. The florist called it a Philodendron, a flowerless plant with wide, waxy leaves, of a deep green, growing out of a little, teal plant pot. It supposedly thrived best in shade, which meant it wouldn't immediately die in the windowless studio. The plant was rather hardy. No matter how bad Jo-jo was at keeping plants alive (not to mention himself at times), the little Philodendron continued to grow. That's why Wally begun calling it Hardy, & the name sort of stuck since.

    Although it wasn't Jo-jo's sort of thing, the man took great pride in his little philodendron. It amused him to no end how people would go into his office, just to see the leafy plant. Hardy was a celebrity among the employees, a simple peek at it would increase moral. And it wasn't even that interesting. Yet people loved it. When Henry left, it was the only thing Jo-jo had left of him, & it made the loss just that little bit easier. When the studio was going bankrupt, the plant stood as a reminder of everything they had ever achieved, of all the heights they had reached. When the studio stood abandoned, no one had any doubt that it now belonged to the little plant, as Mother Nature reclaimed the empty halls.

    Years later, Henry returned to the studio. The first place he wandered to was Jo-jo’s office, where his gift had grown. Vines 7 leaves covered the whole surface of the room. No space was free of greenery. Roots broke through walls & floors, vines getting into the gears of Jo-jo’s swivel chair. Henry cleared the desk of leaves, sitting down in the chair. He grabbed the picture of Jo-jo & himself from the desk, caressing the face of his friend. He leaned back, pressing the frame to his chest, a sad smile spreading across his face as he closed his eyes.

    The next day, Jo-jo picked up the daily paper from underneath his door. Sipping lazily at his morning coffee, an article stood out. ‘Artist found dead at desk. Why overworking can kill you.’ A familiar name stood out, one he hadn’t heard in almost 30 years, & the time of death was dated for two days ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, this is exactly 420 words. Pfft.


	3. 3. Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? Jo-jo would totally get stuck like that. Also, I know the last two have been sorta angsty, & don't get me wrong, we love angst, but we also love light-hearted comedy. So have dis for a change. Also, bold = someone using sign language.

    "Hello, my love." Jo-jo purred as Henry walked by, hanging precariously off a balcony. 

 **"Darling. What are you doing?"** Henry quickly signed in a panic.

    "Uh. I'm stuck." Jo-jo put it ever so eloquently. He shouldn't have looked so happy about it either, when his legs were dangling multiple meters off the ground. How had he even gotten there, Henry had no clue. Unless he had vaulted over the railing, somehow. Getting him out was going to be hard.

**"Oh, Joey."**

    "Love, please don't 'oh, Joey' me now. I'm loosing feeling in my hands." He really shouldn't have wiggled his fingers to prove his point, as he momentarily slipped & almost plummeted down, taking Henry's heart with him.

 **"Yes! Just a second,"** Henry hysterically signed, **"I'll go get Tom."**

    "No!" Henry turned to look at him just as he was getting ready to run to the mechanic, "I mean, I don't want anyone else to see me like this. It's embarrassing. Please?" With a very reluctant sigh, Henry complied & ended up not getting Tom. In hindsight, that was a mistake, because Jo-jo left the hospital the next day, whining & winging with a bright blue cast on his leg & a pissed of Henry attached to his side, too afraid to let him out of his sight.

    "Can I sign it?" Wally bounced up to him after he came back. Jo-jo grumbled something out that vaguely sounded like a yes.

    "How did you even manage it?" Sammy threw his arms into the air in exasperation.

    "How am I supposed to know?" Jo-jo fumed.

    "You're the one who broke his leg!"

    "I didn't do it on purpose, did I?" Henry covered Sammy's mouth before the other managed to continue his & Jo-jo's frankly ridiculous argument.

    "Well. Looks like you're stuck." Jo-jo let out a groan that could have been compared to a wail. He sagged in the god-forsaken wheelchair, bending almost in half. He was indeed stuck, stuck as a fly in a fly trap, just without the immanent death part. On the bright side, at least he could still work.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    "Bye. I'll see you later." Henry kissed his cheek, grabbed his bag & left. Simply left him. Alone, in their house. He didn't even have time to react when the love of his life, his star, his adorable bird, just abandoned him. The bastard even locked the door from the outside (even though it could still be opened from the inside) & took the damn car keys (Henry never even let him drive so it wasn't as if that wasn't the norm), & didn't even bother with an explanation! Angry & betrayed, Jo-jo did the only sensible thing someone in his situation would (after he had already ranted to his two fish that he had in an overly expensive tank in their room.)

    "Joey Drew Studios. Sammy Lawrence speaking, how can..."

    "Sammy!" Jo-jo exclaimed into the phone, not even letting his friend finish.

    "Oh. Hi, Jo-jo. Everything ok? Are you throwing a tantrum cause Henry left you home?" The smug bastard sniggered.

    "I am _not_ throwing a tantrum! I need to get to work RIGHT NOW! Give me Henry!" He screeched into the phone, absolutely fuming at this point.

    "Yeah, about that. He told everyone not to listen to anything you say & that he will sort this out when he gets home. So, unless this is an emergency..."

    "This IS an emergency!"

    "I can't do anything about it. Bye." Then he hang up & left Jo-jo to stew in his anger. He was well & truly stuck.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    "Darling. I'm home." Henry called from the doorway, setting down his things & venturing into the quiet house. Too quiet, if he was being honest. Not even an annoyed grumble answered him. The house, however, did show signs of use. There were more dishes in the sink than when he left, for one. The TV was still on. He switched it off after he found no trace of his husband anywhere around the sofa. There was also a big, blanket covered lump on their bed, a gentle snoring. Slipping off his shoes & glasses, Henry sneaked onto the bed, slithering under the covers with the lump. He moved closer & a hand shot out to wrap around him. Henry snuggled more under Jo-jo's chin, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, as the arm around his middle tightened, holding him like a teddy bear. He realised that he was stuck, but he didn't particularly mind. Luckily, it was already the weekend.

 


	4. 4. Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried something a bit different for this one. & this one is in a way canon to my universe.

    Log #034

    A door had been slammed open on the lower levels of Joey Drew Studios. Judging by the loudness of it & the way the sound reverberated throughout the studio, it appeared to be have been Mr Drew's door that had been slammed. Due to the lack of yelling, it appeared to have been neither Mr Lawrence, Mr Flynn, or Mr Piedmont (although it is to be noted that it is Mr Drew who usually visits Mr Piedmont, not the other way around.) As Mr Connor was not in that day, & Mr Stein had a habit of only slamming the door when he needed to gain the attention if a large group, it would be safe to assume that I had been Mr Cohen who had joined Mr Drew in his office that day. From the accounts of multiple passersby, this seems to be the conversation that took place:

    "Lights." Said Mr Cohen. He had sounded very tired & fed up, noted a particularly worried artist.

    "Yes." Mr Drew had answered simply.

    "You want to buy... Lights." Mr Cohen said, sounding exasperated.

    "Why not?" It is to be noted that Mr Drew sounded very pleased with himself at this moment.

    "Why not?" It is to be noted that Mr Drew sounded very pleased with himself at this moment.

    "Mr Drew..." A very frightened intern had explained how he heard Mr Cohen say that, & immediately bolted when he remembered that Mr Drew & Mr Cohen were on first name basis usually.

    "Oh, come on, Grant. We're friends! Call me Jo-jo." Mr Drew laughed lightly, most likely smiling.

    "Mr Drew!" Another terrified intern recounted. They had also immediately bolted from the vicinity. 

    "What, Mr Cohen?" Mr Drew replied very smugly, still sounding very happy despite the thorough scolding.

    "You can't buy _lights."_ Mr Cohen... Mr Cohen apparently hissed.

    "And why exactly is that?" Mr Drew replied.

    "Lights, Joey. Lights! Whatever do you need lights for? If you looked up maybe you'd realise that we already have lights!" This time, a petrified mechanic had explained what they heard. Mr Cohen doesn’t often yell, so it is clear that many would be frightened by the idea.

    "But they are _special_ lights. You know, for the aesthetic." Mr Drew seemed neither bothered by the yelling, nor by the previously mentioned mechanic dropping something heavy in their fright.

    "Alright! You want to buy _coloured_ lights. Which is dumb." Multiple employees do agree with Mr Cohen.

    "It's not dumb!" Mr Drew had said indignantly. [Mr Lawrence wanted to add that he sounded like a right brat.] Sammy! Yer gonna mess up mah recordin’! Anyway. Where were we? Oh yeah; Mr Drew had sounded like a right brat saying that. [Wow. I didn’t know you could put on such a good accent.] Won mi stąd, Lawrence! [Woah! OK! I’m going!]

    Anyway! Where’s mah notes? Oh! On wiv da log! The conversation continued as follows:

    "You're spending hundreds just too make the studio look yellow!" Mr Cohen fumed!

    "Not yellow! _Sepia_ , like the cartoons!" The sound of multiple artists face palming could be heard all throughout the studio.

    "You're still spending hundreds!" Mr Cohen sounded ready to give up.

    "Not really. Only like a couple of tens." ... What does ‘a couple of tens’ even mean? Did Mistah Drew pass basic English? Even I wouldn’ say dat! [Ruth? Are you done with that log yet?] Almost, Mistah Drew!

    "No. A few lamps might be cheap, but you want to replace _all_ the lights. Not just the ceiling lamps, I know you're not _that_ dumb." ‘Considering he wanted to replace them in the first place, he is that dumb,’ remarked a rather pissed off band member who’s identity is to be kept secret at all times. (*cough, cough* Johnny *cough, cough*)

    "We have the money for it though." Mr Drew answered, very happy.

    "We might now, but if we buy this now we might run out in the future." Mr Cohen sounded very defeated at this point, yet he still went on.

    "You've got a point. But I wanted to pay for it from my own salary anyway! I live with Henry so we'll just buy any necessities with his salary for the rest of the month." Mr Stein wanted me to add: If you spend your money on dumb stuff, then I’m not taking responsibility for you. Unless you want to sleep on the couch for the month. 

    "You've got a point. But I wanted to pay for it from my own salary anyway! I live with Henry so we'll just buy any necessities with his salary for the rest of the month." Mr Stein wanted me to add: If you spend your money on dumb stuff, then I’m not taking responsibility for you. Unless you want to sleep on the couch for the month. 

    "You... You don't have a SALARY!" Mr Cohen shrieked (yes, people've said he shrieked. I ain't makin' dat up.)

    "Yes I do. I made myself a bank account for myself, & one for the studio. So now my expenses are separate from studio expenses." Mr Drew explained excitedly.

    "You did?" Mr Cohen sounded so incredulous, his voice apparently went very [veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery high.] Thanks fer dat, Wally. [No problem!]

    "Yeah. Why?" Mr Drew already knew why. He wasn’t _that_ dumb.

    "Pfft. Ahaha! That's, that's like the smartest thing I've _ever_ heard you do!" Mr Cohen wasn’t the only one to start laughing at this point.

    "Hey! I hired you, didn't I?" Let’s hope Mr Lawrence doesn’t hear that or he’ll be pissed. Or Mr Stein. If he does, Mr Drew might just about make the couch his permanent bed.

    "Alright. Pay for the lights with your own salary, Jo-jo." Mr Cohen chuckled. He sounded far happier.

    "Am I forgiven then for wanting to make the studio look pretty?" I am to note that multiple people laughed at that again. No one’s really sure if the studio will look ‘pretty’ from that.

    "Yes. You're forgiven." The interns breathed a sigh of relief at Mr Cohen’s once again pleasant tone. Now, let’s just hope dose lights won’ be a cock up, eh?

    Courtesy of R. Wright, the scriptwriter of Joey Drew Studios.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R. Wright, or Ruth Wright, is a minor OC of mine that is the script writer at JDS & also keeps a log (at Jo-jo's request) of all the notable ongoings at the studio. Yes, she’s Polish. 


	5. 5. Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is different from my other submissions in the sense that this is more of a character studio for my Joey, rather than an actual story. Which means that everything said here is in fact canon to my version of the studio.

    His hair was dark; black like the ink. He wore only black or dark suits to work, that hugged his figure in a more than desirable way. His skin was naturally on the darker side of tanned, almost like caramel. He had a natural appeal to him, a frightful handsomeness that had people whispering, talking, ‘Better stay away, lest he steal your heart & shattered it under one of his expensive, black boots.’ 

    He was known for a rather dark sense of humour. It was a given, the man was known for a cartoon about a demon. Full of slapstick humour & images of death, one would wonder how the cartoons were even allowed to be aired in the first place.

    The cane he used to get around was made of ebony wood. It shone & never had a single scratch on it, always in an immaculate condition. He had it hand made, payed for it more than he payed most people. Tales differed as to why. Some said it had the blood of his enemies in the knob at the top, even if others denied it with the claims that it held their ashes instead or they would have heard it sloshing around. Others said it was imbued with magic, & he used it for rituals. Yet others said he hid a sword inside, & used it to slay demons & steal their souls. 

    The band he wore around his ring finger was made of gunmetal, a dark gray material. The stripe in the center was also dark, forest green in shade. He’d often lift it up to his face, & kiss it with dark red lips. One thing was for sure, he had his heart in the right place, even if it hid underneath dark silk, away from prying eyes.

    He loved the night, when the sky was dark & cloudless. Seeing him fall asleep watching the stars was a pleasure not many experienced. He often smiled, wide & true, when he got to watch the stars. Their beauty, natural light against the darkness of night enthralled him.

    But everything else about him was so colourful. He was bubbly. When he spoke, his words flowed out like a water fall of happiness. His smile lit up the whole room whenever he entered. He captivated people with his excitement, spilling joy & silly laughter everywhere he went.

    His eyes were the brightest, most vibrant shade of green, so bright they almost glowed. If you asked around, most would say that they  _do_ glow, a soft, warm light, a reflection of the soul. Of the soul of a man who was bright & warm, always.

    He put rainbow clips in his hair that stood out against the dark, black sky of his head.  He’d wear bright pink shirts with pastel blue pants, green hoodies bright like limes with orange leggings the colour of, well, oranges! He’d dress in pastel summer dresses & rose coloured skirts. He’d paint his nails red, only red, bloody red, but wear armfuls of bracelets that were gold, & white, & purple. He shed the dark of professionality for the colourfulness of comfort.

    He was dark, but he also screamed colour. Or more like sang, sang in all the colours of the rainbow. He was dark only when it mattered, when it was needed, but he was always bright, always colourful, he was always Jo-jo. And Henry loved that about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo-jo’s wedding ring for anyone curious. https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=zVqRNlOR&id=F38078EF4C91FC55F4244A2DA7EE63D52A2551B2&thid=OIP.zVqRNlORIuAKCpuBY4IDjQHaHa&mediaurl=http%3a%2f%2fcdn.shopify.com%2fs%2ffiles%2f1%2f0750%2f2041%2fproducts%2fWeb_09_09_15_47_b1638358-0b39-4b3c-abff-652d43c7d9f4_grande.jpg%3fv%3d1508312094&exph=600&expw=600&q=gunmetal+ring&simid=608038583460233435&selectedIndex=178


	6. 6. Dress up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CANON! Totally canon to my universe. Jo-jo loves dresses!

    One day in early July (the 6th if anyone was to ask), Jo-jo made his way into his office.The day had been a rather busy one, & it was just his luck that it wasn’t yet over, even partially. His shoulders sagged as he dragged himself over to his desk, ready to melt into his chair & forget about everything. He sat down, & almost immediately jumped back up when he found he sat on something that wasn’t quite his chair. Turning round, he was shocked to find a scruffily wrapped package sitting atop his chair, right where  _he_  was supposed to be sitting in that moment. Snatching it up, he looked it over. It was an ugly off green shade, with a practically identical bow wrapped around it. A string hang off one corner with a little letter attached at the end. It read, in scruffy handwriting, written in an eye-bleeding blue:

**Dear Inky,  
**

**Happy late birthday. I was stuck in a realm where time seemed to work differently, so I couldn’t get to you sooner.**

**Yours, W.**

    Jo-jo’s face immediately lit up with the brightest smile possible. He ripped open the package & a piece of cloth exploded in his face. Upon further inspection, the cloth turned out to be a dress. A summer dress no less. It was a pastel green, reaching his knees & ending with frills, sleeves just past his elbows with lace trimming at the end. As it was a summer dress, it was decorated with adorable, tiny octopi the prettiest shade of orange. It was gorgeous! He put it on immediately, twirling around his office in his brand new getup. He hadn’t had the chance to gel his hair that day so he brushed it, putting in a set of clips that complemented his green eyes & kept his black locks out of his face, & let his hair drape over his shoulders. Then he plopped down in the dreaded wheelchair (his walking cane just wouldn’t cut it this time. It was to professional & proper for this) & wheeled out into the studio. 

    “Look at Mr Drew!”

    “Oh, he looks so pretty.”

    “That shade really suits him.” People talked & whispered as Jo-jo made his way up & up, from his office all the way to the art department. He perched his wheelchair at the top of the stairs in the little room with the dartboard that everyone had remade into the break room. Then he slid down the banister, his dress fluttering around him.

    “Ooh. What’s with the new getup?” Sammy whistled, making space for Jo-jo at one of the tables.

    “Birthday present.”

    “This late? From who?” Susie asked, looking him over. She leaned closer, cooing at the tiny octopus adorning the dress.

    “Oh, a friend.” Jo-jo waved it off. The others didn’t pry. They didn’t have to. They were very aware at who this ‘friend’ was.

    “Cute.” Thomas commented offhandedly, sipping at least his third coffee of the day.

    “Thank you!”

    “I want one too!” Wally exclaimed, clapping his hands.

    “I’m sure we can find something for you too.”

    “YAY!”

    “Pretty.” Henry hummed, coming up behind Jo-Jo, standing on his tiptoes & giving him a long overdue kiss.

    “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you all day!” He exclaimed, leaning down for a longer kiss.

    “Sorry. I’m here now.”

    “Good.” Then he kissed Henry again. This was a much better day than expected, Jo-jo thought with a tiny smile spreading across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shrugs*. wasn’t sure how to end it. so have some kisses. Also, Jo-jo’s friend, W, will show up later on for day 18. OC, so no questions about them, please. They’re sorta a BATIM OC, sorta not, since they show up not only in BATIM but some of my other fandoms if I feel like it, hence the realm traveling thing.


	7. 7. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I dunno. Not really canon. Maybe canon a bit. Yeah, ok. Sorta canon.

    It was well know by now that there were only two working mirrors in all of Joey Drew Studios. One belonged to Alice Angel. She guarded it with her life, even if it was her who shattered every other, save for one. The second unbroken mirror was said to be in a specific bathroom linked to a convenient room that a certain wolf had turned into a safe house. The whereabouts of the safe house where pure speculation, & yet no one really bothered to try & find it. Many (at least those far more aware) found it best not to try & find the mirrors, lest they had to look upon the monstrosities they had become, & be reminded of the fact that they will never be normal again. They were all content leaving the angel & the wolf with the mirrors. 

    That is, until one day none other than the ink demon happened to come across an open door. The door wasn’t one he had seen before, & it shocked him that he had found a part of the studio he couldn’t remember ever being to before. Then again, the machine had changed the building considerably since everything had gone to hell. When he looked in, the demon realised he had, in fact, stumbled across Boris’ hideout. Noticing the room to be empty, he went in, curiosity at the forefront of his conscience. It was no shock to him when, after looking around, he found no one there. He entered the bathroom at some point. The ink demon was in no way a vain creature. He knew roughly what he looked like, & wasn’t particularly bothered by it, nor was he so obsessed as the false angel. Yet, on a whim, he took the time to clean the mirror off 30 years of grime & dust. What he saw didn’t surprise him. The same twisted grin, skeletal frame. The same horns & crescent moon shaped head. A bit of ink dripping down his face had smudged, he noticed. So he went to wipe it off. When he looked up again, an eye peered at him from the ink. A green, human eye. He went to wipe more of the ink away, & found himself looking at the face of a young man. The man was handsome, if not a bit dead looking. His angled, dark face was sunken in, strands of black hair dropping onto his face. It was the face of a man who once had everything, & now had nothing. It was the face of someone who had lost hope, who knew he’d never fix old mistakes. It was the face of a man who was simply tired of everything. It was the face of a man underneath a monster, a man who was no longer in control, a man who was never truly in control. It was the face of a man repaying for his sins, stuck in a limbo of chase, kill, chase, kill, mindlessly living off of the thrill.

    When he blinked again, the ink demon no longer saw the man. He saw himself again. A monster, because there was no longer a man underneath there. And maybe that was for the better.   

 


	8. 8. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No. This ain’t canon. Guess why? HEN DON’T DIE IN MAH CANON! Anyway!

    Jo-jo had made peace with himself. He had made peace with Henry’s decision to leave, then, & he had made peace with his decision to leave now, leave somewhere where Jo-jo couldn’t follow. Jo-jo kept telling himself that in the following days, as he remembered last week’s news, & then last month’s news. The months carried on & on & on, until he forgot about his promise to forget.

    By principle, you cannot miss something that you never had, yet Jo-jo was never one for following the crowd, he was rather fond of subverting the expectations others had of him. He missed the love that had never been real between him & Henry. Love that was only true in his head. And he had made peace with Henry’s decision not to love him back. He respected his friend, & so, he respected all of his decisions, even the most hurtful ones.

    But it is not to be said that Joey Drew isn’t an impulsive man. An impulsive man with a machine, & enough magic up his sleeve to amaze even Houdini. And, yes, maybe he got a bit carried away recreating the studio, but he had created Henry perfectly, to every single molecule. True to his once-alive counterpart, this Henry didn’t love him either, & Jo-jo wouldn’t force him to. He made peace with himself that no version of Henry would ever reciprocate his feelings.

    And so, Jo-jo sent Henry into the depths of the new studio. Because he had made peace with his failure. He had made peace with Henry’s rejection. He had made peace with his  _death_. Yet, deep down, even he realised how utterly untrue that was, but he didn’t have the heart to ruin it for himself. He had truly made peace with the fact he’d be alone, for the rest of his days, forcing a mere replica of his best friend, the love of his life that never was his, to go through day after day of limbo. It was his only solace in life & he wouldn’t take it away from himself. That was his peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah. It started of well, I had so many ideas. Then BLAM. I get to the day, procrastinate like hell though it all, & end up with hell knows what in those last two paragraphs. Gah! Just take it. Can’t make it any bloody better


	9. 9. Fave ship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It shouldn’t be a surprise that it’s Henry x Joey. I decided to write about their morning routine. Mostly cause Henry is autistic, & so am I & routines are important for us & having Joey follow the same, strict routine for Henry’s sake is important to me. Not that he doesn’t like the routine, but as someone neurotypical who has no need for such extensive routines he sometimes finds it tedious, although not very bothering. Nothing that’s about Henry could ever bother him.

    Outside, birds sang to announce the arrival of the sun. Inside, Jo-jo shifted, turning over onto his side before promptly being whacked in the back of the head with a pillow.

    “Hey!” He exclaimed, shooting up. Henry looked up at him, kneeling by his side.

    “What?” He cocked his head & Jo-jo held in the love-struck smile the action always got out of him, “It’s part of the routine.”

    “I know. I just wish you wouldn’t hit that hard.” He sighed. His husband was pretty strong for all his short stature & Jo-jo knew that all too well.

    “Need me to kiss it better?” Henry cooed, looking right into Jo-jo’s eyes.

    “Will it be at least half as long as last night?” The man grinned. Henry broke the eye contact, then whacked Jo-jo across the face with the pillow.

    “I changed my mind. No kisses for you.” He begun to move away, when Jo-jo grabbed his arm (not too tight, too constricting, never quite touching the skin.)

    “Oh! Come on, love! I’m sorry!” Henry pressed a hand against his chest & pushed him back down. He climbed onto his husband’s lap, hands resting on his bare chest.

    “No. Not part of the routine.” Then he climbed off, leaving Jo-jo unfairly hot & bothered.

    “What a goddamn tease. When did you get so sassy?” He sat right back up as Henry wheeled over his wheelchair.

    “Being married to you would make anyone more cautious.” Henry grabbed Jo-jo’s hands, helping him into the wheelchair.

    “Ouch. I don’t cause that much trouble.” He protested, letting Henry push him into the bathroom.

    “Just a little trouble every month or so.” Henry hummed, grabbing their toothbrushes.

    “Thank you. And exactly! Just a little trouble every so often. You know, to keep everything more interesting.” Jo-jo took the toothbrush from him, pulling him into his lap.

    “I wouldn’t exactly call it interesting,” Henry got out once they were done, moving behind Jo-jo, “Let me do your hair.”

    “You say that just because of that one time you lost those few cells. Which you ended up finding anyway,” He leaned back into his husband’s hands carding through his hair, “And I thought you didn’t like the gel I use.”

    “I won’t be using the gel.” 

    “What? No! You gotta use it.” Jo-jo turned in his chair, glaring at Henry, only to have his head turned back round.

    “No I don’t.” Henry silenced him with his ‘don’t argue’ tone, then went back to brushing his hair. Reluctantly, Jo-jo relaxed into his ministrations. Henry hummed, closing his eyes as he continued unapologetically stimming with his husband’s silky hair. Then he finally tied it up with a green hair tie, kissing the back of Jo-jo’s now exposed neck.

    “I love you.” He sighed. Henry buried his face in Jo-jo’s neck as he said it, & smiled into his throat.

    “Breakfast? Or do you need to shave?”

    “I shaved two days ago.” Henry nodded, wheeling him into the kitchen. Then he left him there & went back to their room for the moment. Jo-jo smiled at his retreating back, proceeding to grab the milk from the fridge & make them both some coffee. He couldn’t stop smiling throughout, too happy to be doing all this with his husband to stop smiling. Who would have thought that someone as amazing as Henry actually ended up being his husband. It was like a dream come true for him to have actually married his best friend. There was not a single thing Jo-jo didn’t love about the other. He loved his from top to bottom, all 4′8 of him. He loved his reddish-amber eyes, his bird’s nest of hair, his button nose, the little dusting of freckles in the dip of his back, his porcelain skin. He loved how talented Henry was. He loved that he could draw portraits like Da Vinci, cartoons that made Disney green with jealousy, & his own style was so much more than both of them. He loved how music inspired him to draw great masterpieces worthy of the Louvre, & colour inspired him to fill their house with the rainbow, over the ceiling & down the walls. He loved all his quirks, even the ones others might find weird or obnoxious. Jo-jo didn’t find his routines obnoxious, he didn’t find his meltdowns obnoxious, or the fact that he went nonverbal an inconvenience. He loved when Henry stimmed, flapping his hands so hard he tired himself out, or absently chewing on Jo-jo’s hand (not hard enough to break skin, mind you) when he was concentrated. He loved the rare times he would smile, & the occasional emotion he’d show, because emotions where confusing, & hell if Jo-jo didn’t get that. He loved it when Henry laughed at his jokes, or played with his hair. He loved it when Henry got so excited he’d bury his face in Jo-jo’s chest, hands too shaky to sign properly. He loved how Henry would rock himself if he was sad. He loved how he got himself a bloody rocking chair just for that purpose, only for Jo-jo to end up rocking in it instead, with an asleep Henry in his lap. He loved how Henry’s diet basically consisted of bacon in all shapes & forms, & how he always knew what to order for him in every restaurant they ever went to (which wasn’t a lot.) Jo-jo loved everything about his autistic, talented & amazing husband. 

    Just at that moment, his autistic, talented & amazing husband walked back into the kitchen, a piece of chewelery hanging out of his mouth. He grabbed his coffee in one hand, took Jo-jo’s hand in his other, & sat down.

    “I love you.” Jo-jo kissed him after they were both done with their coffee. Henry chuckled, it was part of the routine. They went back to their room after a short breakfast (cereal for Henry & some fruit for Jo-jo) & got dressed.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    “Stop moving, you.” Jo-jo chuckled, trying desperately to button up Henry’s shirt as the other kept on bouncing around & flapping his arms.

    “Noo. Happy.”

    “I can see that.” Henry then helped him out of his chair, back onto the bad, & into his suite pants. Then he did Jo-jo’s tie, who could only really do a bow-tie if he tried really hard.

    “There.”

    “Thank you, my love.”

    “Ready to go, darling?” Henry looked up at him, grabbing both of their lunches as Jo-jo stood up with the help of his cane.

    “Ready.” Then they left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry has one of those, prolly the green or red one. Maybe both. You can never have too many stim tools. Chewelery: https://cdn6.bigcommerce.com/s-ghsrgu/products/314/images/1520/krypto_bite_chewy_gem_tube_necklace__90831.1432509236.600.600.jpg?c=2


	10. 10. Laughing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My original post was shit so have a poem instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. I ain’t exactly a poet. This is from Henry’s point of view, sorta.

    Laughter filled the halls.

    Soft, light, full of joy.

    As ink dripped down the walls,

    And flowed over the ground.

 

    Laughter drowned out the screams,

    Loud, loud, from inside his head,

    Of those who once dared to dream,

    But lost their life for his greed.

 

    And as the angel sang her song,

    The room filled out with light.

    An old friend, long gone,

    No more than a bleeding head.

 

    Laughter came from above,

    Jeering, mocking.

    The demon that he had become,

    Slinking away into the ink with a laugh.

 

    Laughter filled the halls.

    The demon had just won.


	11. 11. Environment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing I thought of when I read ‘environment’, was nature. So have some Wally x Thomas (super rare pair that I personally adore) walking their puppy. Tom’s got a fur allergy so the two have a Basenji pup as they are a race of hypoallergenic dogs. Their dog is called Benji, cause I really love that name, & looks like this: https://images.app.goo.gl/Xq8C1qYPqvCj4AGu8

    There was no better way to describe that day other than lovely. The sun appeared particularly happy on that day, smiling widely at every passerby. The clouds had retreated to other corners of the world, allowing the clear blue sky to rain down light instead of rain. The light breeze was no more than a kiss of warm air, making the trees dance under the sun’s spotlight. It was indeed the loveliest day of the year. Even the birds decided so, serenading the world with joyous tunes of love & freedom. 

    “Oh! Look! Ice cream!” Wally cheered, pulling on Tom’s prosthetic arm. 

    The metal hand clamped gently around Wally’s wrist as he grumbled out a, ‘Later,’ with no real anger or annoyance behind it.

     “Aw.” Wally whined, but continued following Tom.

    “It’s nice out today.” The other remarked, looking around. The dog at his feet yapped, trying to pull him back towards the ice cream.

    “Aw, look. Benji wants ice cream too! We gotta get ‘im some, Tom.” Wally looked at him pleadingly, kneeling beside Benji as the dog whined.

    “Oh, fine.” He finally gave in, moving towards the truck. Wally jumped up, kissing his cheek.

    “Love ya.”

    “Mhm. Get your ice cream before I change my mind.” He wasn’t going to change his mind though. 

    “What ice cream d’ya want, Benji?” Wally knelt down beside him again, petting his head as Benji barked.

    “I think he wants one of those watermelon lollies.” Tom hummed. Wally looked at him as if he had just sprouted ears & a tail.

    “Ain’t that your favourite flavour?” He asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicious.

    “What? Dunno what you’re talking about.” He turned away with a smirk.

    “IT IS!” Wally protested, “Ya want tha ice cream!”

    “No. Benji wants the ice cream. You said so yourself.” Wally stomped his foot.

    “Stop it, Tom.”

    “Stop what?”

    “Toooom.”

    “Ok, ok. I’m sorry.” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around Wally & pulling him into a hug.

    “Mean.” Wally grumbled, hiding his face in Tom’s jacket. Then he got onto his tiptoes &…

    “Did you just bite my neck?” Tom looked at him incredulously, as Wally pulled back with a smirk.

    “An' if I did?”

    “Oh you little…” Wally squealed as Tom bent down, blowing a raspberry into his neck. Benji whined beside them.

    “Oh no. We didn’ get Benji any ice cream!” Wally gasped, immediately pulling away & walking with his dog back to the cart. It was Tom who whined that time, a bit miffed that he was just left there like that. He was hoping they’d at least make out.

    “Get me that ice lolly at least.” He grumbled.

    “Yeah, yeah, Mistah Grumpy.” Wally nodded, not really paying attention as he looked over all the choices of ice cream. So many choices, how was he meant to pick ONE. 

    “Need me to pick?” Tom stood behind him, looking over the ice cream.

    “Uhhh. Yeah. I jus’ can’ choose! Dey all look so good!” 

    “Mhm.” Tom ordered them the ice cream. Watermelon ice lolly for him, & some sort of whipped ice cream with a chocolate stick (a flake). The guy must have been British, Tom figured. He remembered Bertrum once mentioning that sort of ice cream.

    “Looks fancey.” Wally commented, putting the entire flake in his mouth.

    “Sorta,” Tom sat down at a nearby bench as Benji joined him, sitting in his lap & sharing the ice lolly, “I told you he wanted the watermelon.” Wally sniggered as Benji climbed all over Tom to get to the ice cream.

    “Aww. He loves ya.” He cooed.

    “Benji, no!” Tom bent backwards, trying to get his ice cream away from the dog, who insistently tried to devour the whole thing in one, “You’ll get a brain freeze, you dumbass. Benji!” Tom shot up, running after the black blur that had ran away with his ice cream.

    “Oh no! Benji.” Wally gasped, worryingly watching Tom trying to catch him while he ate his ice cream. After a while, he came back with a pup in his arms that looked as if he had eaten something sour.

    “We’re gong home now.” Benji whined, & Wally petted his back.

    “Yeah. Le’s go.” And at a perfect moment they got back home, as the rain begun to shower down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that was that. Just some guys being gay with their dog son.


	12. 12. Fusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing the pattern in my writing so far, it would be a safe bet for many to assume that Joey is my favourite character, right? Well, no. My favourite characters are actually Henry & Norman (I can’t choose just one.) So, hence all this.
> 
> I’ve actually been thinking of this once, & came up with a great & frankly adorable design for a fusion between Henry & Norman. For this, my Henry has terrible eye sight & wears glasses, he also often goes nonverbal & knows sign language, & Norman is hard of hearing & also knows sign language.

    Jo-jo was panicking right after the explosion. A spell had gone haywire & he was certain it hit  _someone_ , but he wasn’t sure who. He didn’t even know what sort of spell it had become, & that terrified him. For all the was aware of, half the studio could have been dead! Or even worse,he had magiced Sammy’s hair pink again & the man would be after his head in no time.

    “Joey.” Oh crap! Now he was in trouble.

    “Uh, yes? Sammy?” He gulped, searching past the smoke for his no doubt murderous friend. He briefly contemplated running, when he realised the explosion had blown his cane away from him & there was no outrunning anyone without his walking aid.

    “You better come & see this, quick.” With a wave of his hand, the smoke disappeared, & Jo-jo could see Sammy trying to support who appeared to be Norman. Oh no. If he had done something to Sammy’s boyfriend then he could basically start writing his will.

    “Is he alright?” He spoke up, mentally berating himself for it. Maybe he could have crawled away, but not anymore, as Sammy turned to look at him.

    “I don’t know, & I don’t think calling them a ‘he’ is quite accurate anymore.” Sammy sat down suddenly, cradling the head of the person who obviously wasn’t Norman, in his lap.

    “What ever do you mean, Sammy?” No longer quite as fearful for his life, Jo-jo crawled closer, trying to peek over at who exactly he had hit with the spell. As any good boss, at least one in charge of a small enough company, he knew or at least recognised all of his employees. He had no bloody idea who that guy was, however.

    “I think they fused.” Sammy spoke up, snapping him out of his thoughts.

    “What?”

    “They fused.”

    “Who fused? I was the only one down here.” That wasn’t exactly true. After all, Sammy was here now, so whoever had ‘fused’, according to the music director, had to have snuck into the room he was working in.

    “I’m here, aren’t I? And I was walking down here with Norman & Henry, when suddenly the wall over there collapsed, something exploded & knocked me onto my ass.” Ah. That explains it.

    “That’s Henry & Norman?” Jo-jo practically shrieked, which just so happened to rouse the fusion (or so Sammy & Jo-jo thought at first.) 

    “Hey there,” Sammy cooed to them, “How are you feeling?” The new person yawned, four pairs of arms shooting out & wrapping around Sammy, bringing him into an embrace. Slowly, a bit unsteadily, Sammy helped them up & onto their legs, of which they only had one pair. Jo-jo grabbed onto Sammy’s arm, also pulling himself up, much to the disgruntlement of his friend.

    Once, he was up, he pulled the Henry/Norman fusion away from Sammy, & made them look at him, “Do either of you know what happened? Do you know what’s going on?” He raised his voice slightly, & watched as they practically lit up at his voice, the smaller pair of hands giving a little flap.

    “Norman? Henry?” Sammy yelled. The fusion turned it’s head slightly, only enough to be able to hear better, & a smile spread across their lips.

    “They’re blind.” Jo-jo explained.

    “How can you tell?” 

    “They don’t focus on anything. They turned to you only slightly when you spoke, just to hear better. Plus their eyes look cloudy.” He spun them round again, waving a hand in front of their face. They didn’t react. Jo-jo looked them over. They didn’t seem injured at least.

    “They’re cute.” Sammy remarked, & Jo-jo had to agree. They were just slightly shorter than Jo-jo, yet a bit taller than Sammy, with a slim (from Henry) but muscular (from Norman) built, & a round (once again from Henry) & slightly chubby (& this time from Norman) face. They had Norman’s fluffy beard & Henry’s bird-nest hair, & a dusting of freckles over the bridge of their nose that simultaneously came from both & neither at the same time (as both of them were covered in freckles, but no where near their faces.) Their skin was dark & chocolaty, with splodges of white like a cobbler cake made of white & milk chocolate. The pale parts where of Henry’s porcelain white skin tone, while the dark was obviously the exact shade that Norman usually was. Both men had an almost identical small nose, & same eye shape, so neither of these things had changed, yet one of their eyes was a bright amber-red, while the other was a steely grey. The smaller pair of hands played with the bigger, tickling the palms which made the whole fusion twitch with silent laughter.

    “Cute? They’re adorable!” Jo-jo protested.

 **“Joey. What’s going on?”**  One pair of hands signed.

    “You have fused. You both are one being now.” He explained.

    “They need a name.” Sammy turned to Jo-jo.

    “Hmm. Henry, & Norman. Norman, & Henry. Oh! I know! Norry!” Norry looked in Jo-jo’s direction at the sound of their new name & smiled. The smaller pair of hands grasped the bigger & squeezed. The fusion whimpered, shaking their head.

    Sammy came up beside them & separated their hands, “You have to watch out for you strength now, love.” He kissed their cheek, & Norry leaned into him. Sammy wrapped his arms around them & whispered in their ear.

    Jo-jo limped up beside the two (er, three) & stroked Norry’s head, “We’ll have to find a say to split them eventually. As adorable as they are, they can’t stay like that forever.”

    “I know. But let’s just make sure they’re OK now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, Henry & Norman do get separated eventually. I’m thinkin’ of writing more things about them tho, just cause I love them so much, but this’ll have to do for now.


	13. 13. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of a series that includes Rituals & Lonely. It’s meant to go through my interpretation of Joey’s feelings after Henry left. The part in Rituals has been slightly adapted from my interpretation to fit the theme better, but otherwise everything is the same.

    Pain quickly became the only thing he could feel. Even back then, on that day in his office, pain replaced the anger immediately as the door slammed shut. It was a gut-wrenching, heart-clenching, bloody pain that made it hard to breath, hard to move a muscle.That empty hole in his heart bled through, twisting & turning his mind till there was nothing but pain. In a pain free nook of his mind, rational thought told him that he deserved it, that he brought it upon himself, & he couldn’t argue when the pain wracked another sob out of him. He had just driven away the person who he cared for the most, who cared about him, & hell did it hurt, but he’d be damned if he said it wasn’t what he deserved. It hurt. Hurt too much. Far too much. Yet he would have agreed to live in this constant state of pain, if it meant he could turn back time & say sorry. Not even to fix it, as he knew he would never be able to stop him from leaving, but he at least wanted to apologise. He just wanted to hold his sweetheart one last time, whisper sweet words in his ear before he would have to let him go, like a bird being set free from its cage. He knew they couldn’t have lasted, & knew he reacted poorly, & would give anything to just tell him ‘I love you. I’m sorry.’

    He wasn’t sure how long his brain shrieked ‘hurt’ at him, & his mind chastised him with cruel words. It could have been mere hours after he left, or it could have stretched for years.Even then, it wasn’t long enough to be a substantial punishment for his sins, he decided. A man like him didn’t deserve the reprieve he eventually reached. He didn’t deserve it when he eventually felt the pain wash away, & leave him numb to the world.


	14. 14. Theories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always been a fan of the theory that Lacie was stuck in the Bendy Animatronic. Also, my version of Lacie is genderfluid & is going by they/her.

    Lacie never liked that robot Bertrum always worked on away in the corner. It quite frankly terrified them, seemingly moving when no one was looking. And what cruel fate would have it, that when Joey Drew Studios went to hell, non other than Lacie Benton happened to get stuck in that pile of scrap, laying ‘innocently’ a top the work bench. If they ever got out of there, they were sure to give Bert a piece of her mind. If she ever found him, that is. As far as they were aware, the designer of Bendyland was no where to be found in that little hell on earth he had helped to create.

    They had searched almost everywhere they could. After all, they knew Bendyland like the back of their hand. Yet Bertrum was still nowhere to be found. She didn’t want to admit that it saddened her. There was nothing between them after all. They were work partners, best friends. Yet Lacie was sad at Bertrum’s absence. Maybe it was just the loneliness? They didn’t get much more company save a few Butcher Gang members.

    They never really wanted to give up. They were forced to. When the angel came to her domain, Lacie’s search had to halt. She hid, the angel made sure of it. No longer was she able to traverse their own domain, the scrap of heaven in hell. They were forced back into the dark, again & again. With every loop, she searched, Alice came, she hid, Henry left, & reset. Over, & over, & over again.


	15. 15. Time travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Joey is magic, he sends himself to the future, with Old Man Drew, & decides to do a few things differently. Jo-jo is my version of Joey (or younger Joey.) & Joey is Old Man Drew (which is what I call in-game Joey.)

    Let it be known that Joseph Benjamin Drew didn’t believe that  _everything_ was possible. A great number of things were, of course, but there where others that simply weren’t. Let’s make it clear that time travel was in fact, part of the first category, rather than the second. Jo-jo was quite well versed in time magic, although it wasn’t his main specialty. For one, he had the ability to stop time for a short while. He wasn’t a stranger to turning back the clock. He would even every so often speed it up during particularly tiresome days. Here & where, when that stack of papers was about to fall, or when a mug of coffee tipped over on an important document, Jo-jo would exercise his knowledge of time magic to prevent small catastrophes from taking place.

    However, magic, like magic is, is a finicky thing, a fragile force that often requires someone of great power & even greater discipline to wield it. And even then, even the greatest of the great still were susceptible to accidents, such as turning your friends hair pink constantly. This time, Jo-jo didn’t find himself with a pink-haired, pissed off Sammy barging into his office, but an old man, staring at him as if he had just grown a second head, in what Jo-jo guessed was the man’s own kitchen.

    “The hell are you doing here, Joey?” The man glared at him, putting down the cup he was in the middle of drying.

    “One, I don’t know. Two, how do you know my name. Three, who  _are_ you. Four, I dunno.” The man was acting far too calm for someone who had just seen a young man in a business suite materialise in his kitchen.

    “The name’s Joey Drew. I’m guessing you had a mishap with a time spell, right, kid?” The men, well, him, sat down opposite his younger counterpart.

    “Yeah. Figures that an older version of me would know about that.” Jo-jo huffed.

    “Care for a cookie, some tea, Joey? Or do you still go by Jo-jo? I stopped a few decades ago.” Even before Jo-jo had a time to answer, the older Joey got up, shuffling over to the counter.

    “Decades? How old are you?” 

    “Mmm. In my sixties,” Joey hummed, “And you?”

    “Oh. I’m twenty nine. Three month till I turn thirty, actually.” Joey chuckled, turning to the younger him.

    “You still have your whole life ahead of you. Good. Henry still works for you, then. The studio’s growing bigger. Three month away? So you’ve already hired Jack, right? Susie’s voicing Alice, the band is in full swing. Thomas & GENT have started to work for you last year. Norman blew up his first projector last month. It’s a wonder those old things even lasted that long. Gave you all a scare but it made you more aware of safety in the work place. How many times have you turned Sammy’s hair pink this month alone? Shawn still works as an artist, doesn’t he? I don’t like to spoil, but you’ve got quite big things planned. Have you met Tom’s cousin, Grant, yet? Mmm, I don’t think you have quite yet. You certainly haven’t yet thought of… Well, look at me. No spoilers I say, & here I am, about to spoil it all.” Joey chuckled again, an almost dreamy look on his face. He was correct, of course. Why wouldn’t Henry work for him still? They were best friends, lovers. They were fulfilling their dream. The studio was bigger, less claustrophobic. He had indeed hired Jack already. He & Sammy seemed to get along well, which was good. Susie was a great choice for Alice, Henry had good taste, & the band was finally complete & working full time. Yes, the GENT company was already in partnership with the studio. A projector had blown up recently. That was the reason he set up the infirmary in the first place. Twenty one is how much he had turned Sammy’s hair pink that month. Why wouldn’t Shawn be an artist? He & Henry worked well together, & he did have a knack for the facial expressions more than Henry did. He had met Grant, actually (although he didn’t know he was related in any way to Thomas.) He liked him, they were in the process of working out a contract for him. He was hoping the studio’s new accountant was going to feel at home. And what haven’t he thought of yet? He only really wanted to concentrate on the cartoons for now.

    “Look, I need to head back home soon. Any thing you’d like to tell me before…” A sudden voice cut him off.

    “Joey?” Jo-jo spun around, coming face to face with… Henry. But his love didn’t look natural. He was too young to be from this timeline, & his whole imagine was only in black & white. What was going on?

    “Well, younger me. Meet your sweetheart. He’s going through a limbo I had created, paying for this old man’s sins.” Henry came up to him in that moment, teary eyed as shaking hands gently took his face. Henry kissed him, slow & sweet, & tasting of ink.

    Then he pulled away, glowing red eyes meeting his, “Don’t let me go, darling. It will hurt you, destroy you. Then you’ll destroy everything else.”

    “He’s right, kid. Don’t let your Henry go. Don’t give him a reason to leave. And even if he does, don’t ruin it for everyone. Killing won’t solve anything. Fucking up people’s lives won’t make it better. And creating an endless limbo of pain & torture won’t erase the guilt.” Jo-jo turned to the older man. Joey had a small, saddened smile on his face, his gaze trained on Henry this whole time. He reached out to him, but the man made from ink flinched back, letting go of Jo-jo. Joey sighed, & with a wave of his hand, Henry’s face went blank, emotionless.

    “I…I need to go back.” Jo-jo choked out.

    “Go. And don’t give him a reason to leave.” Then, Jo-jo disappeared, leaving only Joey & Henry in the kitchen. Joey went up to the ink creature, carding a hand through his tussled hair & fixing the glasses upon his nose. Then he sent him back on his way &, although he had never in his life believed, he prayed to whoever was willing to listen that his younger self would make a better legacy for himself.


	16. 16. Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So. Alternate universe where Norman is aware & tries to survive alongside Sammy in the studio. When SUDDENLY! They get swapped. That’s all. Normy in Sammy's body, Sam-sam in Norman's body. DAS IT! Also, I usually headcanon Norman as the Projectionist to be deaf but that sorta didn’t fit in with so that’s scrapped.
> 
> Also, this was my attempt at humour, so humour me & laugh.

    Norman had, quite frankly, gotten used to the projector weighing down on his shoulders. The pain had long since dissipated into a dull ache & he had quickly learned how to get around without tipping over. You could say then, that when he woke up one day (or night. you could never really tell in the studio) with the projector gone & replaced with a normal head, he was quite shocked. So shocked in fact, that his high pitched screams had probably woken up half of the studio. His mind went completely blank for a moment, his four fingered (FOUR!!? WHERE DID HIS PINKY GO?!!) hands plastered to his all too human cheeks. Inky human cheeks. Really nice human cheeks that were far to defined to be his cheeks. 

    “Stop screaming, my light. I’m trying to rest.” Came a staticy groan from beside him. None other than the Prophet, Sammy Lawrence, his low, angelic voice projecting from the speaker on his chest. The hell? Had they swapped bodies?

    “Sammy!” Norman shrieked, not unlike his Projectionist form.

    “What?” Sammy groaned, turning away from him. The bastard!

    “Wake up!

    “Oh shit, you can talk!” Sammy shot up, almost immediately falling forwards, his new projector head ending up between his legs.

    Norman yanked on the wires sticking out of the projector, pulling him back up, “No time fer foolin’ about, Sammy!” He growled, pulling his boyfriend out of bed.

    “You’re just salty cause I can actually speak.” Sammy teased, as he begun to tip again.

    “Well, I have actual eyes!” Norman huffed. He did, unlike Sammy, have something to fill out the eye-sockets. Not exactly eyes, per se, but close enough. 

    “They’re light-bulbs!” Sammy pointed out, falling into Norman’s arms, still not able to balance with the massive projector stuck onto his neck. And they were, indeed, light-bulbs. Sammy even reached out & pulled one right out of its socket. Norman whined, very much like the whine of a running projector, before pulling it out of Sammy’s hand & setting it back where it belonged.

    “Leave mah eyes alone.”

    “Sorry.” Sammy held up his hands, then immediately thrust them out to the sides to catch his balance. Norman stared at him a second with his arms crossed & a concentrated look on his (Sammy’s) inky face, then huffed.

    “I  _am_ unfairly tall.” He agreed. The Projectionist towered a head taller above the Prophet, who was himself on the taller side. Also, with Sammy at the front, his ink covered body seemed to shift in a way that made him look more muscly.

    “See?” Sammy then picked him up, cradling him against his chest. Norman didn’t yell, or squeak, as he was far too used to it, but he still threw his arms around Sammy’s neck, just in case,“At least I can carry you around better now. I know how much you love being in my arms.” A low, purr like noise rumbled from the speaker on Sammy’s chest.

    “Dose are mah arms.” Norman furrowed his brows, looking at Sammy. Unlike the Prophet, who didn’t have eyes in the first place to blind, the light from the projector matched the one that came from Norman’s eyes, hence allowing them too look at each other without squinting & headaches.

    “Just enjoy it, smart-ass.” Sammy, the impulsive romantic, tried kissing him. It ended with Norman headbutting the projector lens & falling out of Sammy's arms.

    “Ow.” Sammy rushed to his side instantly. Or, well, tried, as he bent over too much one way & ended tipping over, landing across Norman.

    “Norman?”

    “‘M fine. Now geroff.” Norman planted his hands on Sammy’s side & pushed, rolling him neatly away. Sammy wasn’t an idiot. He was often forgetful, but not an idiot. So he did the non-idiotic thing, & sat up, & stayed there, just looking at Norman.

    “You know. You like more like yourself like this, rather than me.” A happy sound gurgled out of the speaker. Norman sat up beside him & grabbed the blanket from their shared cot, covering himself with it. Unlike Sammy, his Projectionist form was fully clothed, the clothes sticking to his skin via the ink, & he didn’t feel comfortable running around the studio sans a shirt. Sammy let out a slightly sad gurgle at his actions, but didn’t mention it. He was good like that.

    “Sammy.”

    “Mmm?”

    “I’ve got somethin’ t’ show ya.” Sammy cocked his head.

    “Is it that thing you mentioned yesterday?” Norman nodded. After a moment, Sammy stood up. He steadied himself for a second, he was getting better at this whole balancing thing, then helped Norman up. As was custom, Sammy reached for the axe they had stashed on the far wall of the sanctuary. Norman took his hand to stop him.

    “I’ll take it. You’ve got yer claws. Plus, ya could always headbutt ‘em & that’d send ‘em runnin’” Sammy chuckled & let Norman take the axe instead. Yeah, headbutting would work too.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    Norman held tightly onto Sammy’s hand, leading him through the dark halls of Joey Drew Studios. The decrepit studio had long since became a home to them, in some sort of hilariously twisted way. They knew their way around the studio like they knew each other. Yet the ink is a force to be reckoned with, constantly twisting, changing, forming & destroying. Many paths would be forgotten, or disappear completely. Yet there were the few parts of the studio the ink didn’t dare change. One of the being the music department, almost completely intact from its time before, & the canteen. As Joey Drew Studios grew & grew, created more cartoons & employed more people, there was a need for people to take longer hours, because even with a big team, they needed to create new cartoons fast. With more people, & more people working longer, there was a need for breaks. Even Joey wasn’t dumb enough to not allow people to have lunch breaks. Hence the building of the canteen, a place for people to either buy, or bring their own lunch, & then take a break from work, either once or twice a day. The canteen, unlike many other rooms, had been simply blocked away. A large beam had fallen before the door leading to it, & not even Norman was able to pull it aside. As fate would have it, not to long ago, Norman had found an alternate passage to it, which was where he was leading Sammy to right at that moment.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    The moment he saw where Norman had led him too, Sammy gasped. The canteen looked almost exactly as how it was before the studio turned into ink. It was a large, spacious room, around half the size of the Ink Machine room on the first floor. Multiple tables stretched the length of it, multiple cupboards lining the walls. 

    “You found a way into the canteen!” Sammy exclaimed. He picked Norman up & spun his boyfriend around, before hugging him close to his chest. Norman quite gladly snuggled closer, leeching off the warmth Sammy seemed to exude, no matter what form he was in. Sammy happily indulged him, hugging him even tighter. As much as he loved Norman’s size (aside from the occasional moment when he was just too tall for his own good) he couldn’t deny that having a small boyfriend was amazing, & carrying him around was even easier & somehow even more amazing (he finally understood why Jo-jo always seemed to be carrying Henry around when they thought no one was looking.)

    “Mmm. Yeah.” Norman hummed, sleepily. Cuddling with Sammy always seemed to put him in a relaxed, almost sleepy mood.

    Almost too soon, Sammy set him down, “Let's raid the cupboards then.” Norman nodded, tightening the blanket around his shoulders & setting the axe down. The moment Norman got his four-fingered hands on anything that resembled food, he stuffed it into his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he had  _eaten_. Yes, he often absorbed hearts of creatures he killed to stabilise himself more, but that was never quite the same. Even with corrupted taste-buds & everything having an inky after taste, he couldn’t help how hungry he had gotten, even if it wasn’t even real hunger. They were ink, they couldn’t feel hunger. They could only feel pain, & if they felt it, it meant it was time to replenish. It was bliss, & a relief.

    “Mmm.”

    “Oi! Don’t eat it all. We have to bring some back to the sanctuary.” Sammy chided him. Norman glared at him, cheeks bulging with food. He’s going to eat all the food if he wants to it all the food.

    “No.”

    Sammy sighed, “You’ll get a stomach ache. I’m telling you.” 

    “Ballshi’.” He replied, taking another bite of a surprisingly fresh apple. A low growl stopped him from taking another bite. He looked up at Sammy, who had his gaze trained on the entrance to the canteen. Then he realised that there was a continuous banging noise coming from there.

    “Norman. Hide.” Before he even had a chance to move, the door collapsed, & there in the doorway stood the ink demon. The monster roared, lunging right at Sammy. Norman hid, watching from underneath a table as Bendy grabbed a hold of the projector, punching the side of it, over & over again. Sammy, desperately, tried to fight back. He couldn’t get more than a few punches in, unable to see with his light blocked. Sammy clawed at Bendy’s hand but the demon wouldn’t let go. Over & over, until pain suddenly shot up his leg. An axe had been buried there, & as Norman yanked it back out, the demon took him by the neck. He didn’t even get a change to blink as his throat was snapped. Not even a moment later, Sammy’s head was separated from his body.

    “M _i_ **N** e.” The demon crooned, taking the blanket Norman had dropped.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    When Norman blinked again, he was back in the Music Department, a familiar weight atop his shoulders.

    "Would you look at that. We're back to our own bodies.” Sammy spoke up from beside him. Norman turned to him, also back in his own body, & tried to speak. All that was heard was a staticy moan.

 **“We are.”**  He agreed, reverting to using sign language again.

     “Oh, but I'll miss hearing your voice so much, my light." Sammy sighed, leaning against Norman’s side. His hand went up to cares his neck & Norman purred.

 **"I'll miss you being able to carry me around."** He confessed shyly. 

    "But, I can give you kisses now, & I believe that both of us benefit from that."  Norman nodded, eagerly leaning into the little kisses Sammy peppered all over his neck & shoulders.

    Norman suddenly jumped, **“Oh crap. I lost the blanket!”**  He moaned out an annoyed sound, glaring at Sammy who laughed.

    “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure we could borrow one from the infirmary, Jack won’t mind.” Norman nodded a bit sadly, but at least Sammy was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bold means someone using sign language. Also, fighting scenes ain’t my specialty & I ain’t 100% sure how ta write ‘em so ya gotta just deal with this. P.s this is also like the longest prompt I have ever written for this challenge so whoop!


	17. 17. Under appreciated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, Joey & Henry didn’t fully appreciate their time together until they both got so caught up with work they didn’t have any more time for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much trouble with this prompt & one of the prompts was literally ‘Free day’! Well, environment had me stumped for a while too. Environment, for a horror game! (I know it prolly meant somethin’ like the environment of the game but I honestly thought it was environment as in nature.)

    “This is very nice, my love.” Jo-jo confessed one night, when Henry & him were cuddling on the couch in their own house for once.

    “Mhm.” Henry hummed in agreement.

    “You know, I read somewhere, can’t remember where, that you don’t truly appreciate something until you loose it. And I haven’t realised how much I appreciated our soft, quite alone time until we both begun drowning in work up to my chest & your head.” Henry blew a raspberry at his love for the jab at his height, but quickly settled back down across his chest.

    “It just makes you cherish these moments more.” Henry closed his eyes as Jo-jo begun brushing a hand through his hair.

    “Well, yes. But I’ve also realised how much I’ve under appreciated spending time with you. I think I’ll cut the work day at the studio. Just so that we don’t constantly have to come back home to tired to even change into some pajamas.” Jo-jo really shouldn’t have laughed at that. The one time he fell asleep in his suite jacket, he woke up with an ink stain across half his chest up across his face from the ink pen in his pocket he had accidentally crushed. Not to mention that one time Henry fell asleep on his desk & had to walk around with a Boris on his cheek for the rest of the day.

    “You do that, but only if you finally let me bring some work home for the weekend.” Jo-jo thought it over for a second. He knew how important work was for Henry, but he didn’t want his birdie to overwork himself.

    “Oh, alright. You can bring like one or two cells with you, no more.” Henry looked up at him, eyes narrowing.

    “Why?”

    “Because you need sleep to.”

    “I need no such thing.” The animator protested.

    “Henry.” Jo-jo warned, looking him in the eyes. Henry didn’t meet his gaze, & Jo-jo wouldn’t force him too, but he still turned Henry’s face so that he could see his boyfriend’s displeased look.

    “Three cells. Two just started, one almost finished.” He promised.

    “Deal.”

    “Deal.” Henry reclined his head back against Jo-jo’s chest.

    “Love you.” Jo-jo mumbled, almost absentmindedly.

    “OK.” Henry hummed back, then looked him in the eyes. It was moments like these that were so unappreciated once; those short, blissful moments that both begun to cherish. They begun to look forward to them. Years & years in the future, they’d look back on those underappreciated moments, & take comfort in them, take comfort in the memories of something they no longer had. And Jo-jo’s words on that day would return to them, bright & clear as day. Because the man seldom was wrong, & you truly do not appreciate something, until it is long gone.


	18. 18. OC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MY B-DAY! Have some Jo-jo interacting with Warrior. & yes, they still count as an OC. An imaginary friend is an original character.

    Jo-jo liked Warrior. They were a weird person, a realm traveler who seemed to know everything that there was to know, yet they still tripped over their own feet, & cheered like a child at the mention of pistachio ice cream & rabbits. Nonetheless, Jo-jo liked the genderfluid demon (the big ‘Fuck you’ to gender norms being something they had in common), they got along quite splendid. They even once let him paint stars on the back of their cloak, & they always seemed the most protective of the unassuming piece of cloth from which they pulled out all of their belongings (which included a motorcycle. A bloody motorcycle!)

    Warrior always only met him at the studio, never at his house. He wondered if that had something to do with the Ink Machine, but when he asked, Warrior said that magic in any form wasn’t able to interfere with their portals. When Jo-jo asked why they didn’t like visiting him at his house, they simply said that they didn’t like his house. Now, that was all well & good, it wasn’t their house & so they weren’t obligated to like it or feel comfortable in it. Yet Jo-jo would have preferred for them to meet in a place that didn’t have the potential of someone listening in on them. Some people where known to sneak around. Others where known to ask questions. Yet others to spread rumours. Jo-jo didn’t fancy a rumour going around that he had a secret missus. Or yet, a male companion. Those where, unfortunately, not the times for that. Besides, he already had a male companion, & it certainly wasn’t Warrior.

    Sometimes, Jo-jo wouldn’t see Warrior for months. He knew that his demonic friend had a lot on their plate. They had their own home & their own family. They were a fighter, that he knew, & so he figured they spent most of their days engaged in battle. Warrior never brought up their home life. The realm they came from was a secret to him, as were many other aspects of his friend. He didn’t know who’s side they fought on, who against, was fighting the only thing they did. Warrior didn’t disclose any of that, & he didn’t push. 

    They enjoyed telling him about the different realms they visit. There was one instance, he remembered them telling him, where they ended up in a realm not dissimilar to his own. But the Joey Drew there was a cruel man, & Warrior left shortly after. 

    Sometimes, if Warrior didn’t show up for a long time, Jo-jo would find notes scattered around the studio. They were only ever in places he would find, & were usually something along the lines of ‘Hi. How’s it going?’ written in Warrior’s messy, almost unreadable scrawl. Sometimes they would leave him presents, if they happened to come across something that reminded them of Jo-jo in their travels. That was actually how he ended up with the portal book, as well as a number of other grimoires & magic tomes. Sometimes, he’d get trinkets & dresses. 

    On one occasion, Warrior found themselves in a realm, traveling along side a group of heroes aiming to stop some sort of ancient magister (whatever that was). During a particularly interesting quest (boring according to Warrior themselves), Jo-jo had been invited to a ball by the demon. It was, quite frankly, a night he’d never forget, filled with family betrayal, scheming rivals & one to many darkspawn for his taste. Plus all that blood ruined his dress! Not that he didn’t enjoy it, far from, but he wasn’t about to repeat that anytime soon.

    All in all, Warrior was an interesting individual. Despite their certainty that they couldn’t make friends, that they were only using Jo-jo for their own goals & didn’t actually care about him, Jo-jo knew otherwise. And he always ended up looking forwards to the next time they met.


	19. 19. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, some of my favourite BATIM ships having a sick day cause I’m a sucker for SickFics.

    “Cuddles?”

    “You want to get me sick, love?” Jo-jo chuckled. Henry didn’t find it very funny, his whole face red from rubbing at the horrible smothering feeling under his skin, his eyes glossy with tears from his latest coughing spree, & his hands pitifully reaching out to his husband, barely able to keep them straight & upright. Jo-jo suddenly felt terrible for that jab. His star hadn’t been this sick in years, & here he was laughing at him. What a great partner he was.

    “No?” Henry croaked out, dropping his hands.

    “No, of course I’ll cuddle you! I’m sorry I said that.” He slid in under the covers next to Henry, cradling his head as he peppered apologetic kisses all over his flushed cheeks. Henry pushed away, rubbing instantly at his face. Jo-jo pulled his hands away gently, & grabbed a wet cloth from the bedside table, pressing it to Henry’s forehead.

    “Mmm.” Henry hummed.

    “I’m guessing that’s better.” Jo-jo chuckled, stroking his husband’s hair reassuringly.

    “Thank you.” Henry mumbled. Soon enough, his breathing evened out  & Jo-jo realised he had fallen asleep. That brought a smile to his face, seeing the love of his life so content, finally able to get some proper rest.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    “No, you’ll get sick too!” Norman whined, pushing away Sammy’s hands. Sammy didn’t give up easily, thought, wrestling down Norman’s fumbling hands to put the thermometer in his mouth.

    “Don’t speak now.” He warned, waiting until the thermometer gave a little beep to pull it back out.

    “Why’s it taste so weird?” Norman scrunched his face up at the taste. It was all chemical-like & made him think of what he once imagined soap to taste like.

    “I had to clean it. It’s probably just the soap.” Ha! He knew it! It brought a small, pleased grin to his face. Sammy, however, didn’t look as pleased.

    “‘S it bad?” Sammy sighed at the question, throwing the thermometer into the trash can behind him.

    “I don’t know. It doesn’t work.” Then he plopped down beside Norman, leaning against the headboard of their bed.

    “Doesn’t feel bad.”

    “Which doesn’t mean it  _isn’t_ bad.” Sammy shot back, getting right back up.

    “Where ya goin’ of t’?” Norman called after him, almost ready to get up & chase him.

    “To buy a new thermometer, of course.” The other called back, returning to the room already dressed in a jacket & shoes, long enough only to kiss Norman goodbye.

    “An’ you’ll leave me ‘lone?” Norman grabbed him.

    “I’ll be back soon,” Sammy assured him, kissing his nose, “I’ll get you something for this cold, too. It’s all to make you feel better.” Norman didn’t pout, of course he didn’t. It was Sammy’s own choice to kiss him again, & if it was a bit longer & more heated, no one would know.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    Susie had to be the only person out of the whole studio who almost never was sick. While people like Grant or Wally constantly came to work looking like death, & people like Jo-jo (mainly him, to be honest) ended up in the hospital more than once every few months, she came to work on time, ever day, looking healthy as usual. No flu season could put her down, no sudden epidemic at the studio. Until, that is, she caught a strain of the common cold that was just that little bit to strong for her immune system, sending her straight to bed. Not to mention her angel constantly tottering about, worried out of her mind. 

    “Allison, I’m fine.” She assured her. Allison, however, didn’t exactly listen. Or want to listen, when she could be busy doing more important things, like helping her girlfriend get better. Susie wished she wouldn’t try so hard. She knew her girlfriend meant well, but her ‘remedies’ weren’t exactly the most pleasant thing in the world. 

    “You’re not fine! You’re sick!” She protested. Susie grabbed her arm before she could run off again, pulling her down onto the bed.

   “You’re right. I’m not fine. But do you know what will make me feel better?”

   “No?”

    “You.” Allison relented, laying down beside her. Soon enough, Susie fell asleep, snuggled safely in Allison’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were meant to be more but I run out of ideas.


	20. 20. Redesign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My redesign of Beast Bendy, smooshed with the theory that Joey is the ink demon.

     He towered above Henry, standing on all fours. His front paws were bigger than the man’s head, with sharp claws longer than his forearm. His back legs ended with heavy hooves, clinking against the floor as he shuffled under Henry’s scrutinising gaze. A long, whip-like tail anxiously swung behind him, ending with the sharp tip of an ink pen. His crescent shaped head was bowed low in shame, mouth pressed into a tight line to hide the rows upon rows of horrifying teeth. He didn’t want to scare him anymore.  Henry sighed, uncrossing his arms. He looked Jo-jo in the eyes, or what he thought was his eyes. Two white spots on the side of his massive head, partially hidden underneath the thick fur of the beast. 

    “I am not angry. I’m just disappointed.” The beast whined, bowing his head even lower. Henry could now see the smooth expanse of his back, his tense hunched shoulders. He placed his hand atop Jo-jo’s head, & the beast purred.

    “Love you.” He gurgled. Henry smiled back at him, stroking the top of his head. The beast laid down, finally relaxed after all they both had been through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shorter than all my other cause I honestly couldn't think what else to add beside just describing him.


	21. 21. Rituals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of that mini trilogy I mentioned. Everything but the end is canon to my AU. I had to add the ritual due to the day's prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already wrote this but lost it. Which, on the one hand, means I can write it better cause I was in a bad mindset when writing this the first time. On the other hand, it’s bloody annoying. Anyway. Here ya go.  
> Also, heed the tags. this gets darker than all the previous prompts.

    When numbness overtook the pain, Jo-jo did everything he could to get it back. When natural means failed him, he turned to magic. It happened to be rather ironic that the last thing that would make him feel anything was used to ruin him completely. 

    At first it was just little shocks. He’d press his fingers to a pulse point, letting out a short jab of energy straight into his veins. Then he’d summon fire. Bright flames would blaze in his hands. He had to resort to wearing gloves to cover the burns. At one time he closed the doors of his office & froze the whole room, sitting in his chair until he couldn’t feel his face anymore. Sammy had gotten angry at him for that one. He didn’t like it that Jo-jo had holed himself up in his office, or the fact that when he was finally able to walk in, it was so unbelievably cold. Although it wasn’t as cold as it was originally. Jo-jo knew how to hide, knew he had to hide. He couldn’t be sent to a loony bin for wanting to feel again, he had important work to finish. He couldn’t trust anyone.

    No one. No one could be trusted. They’d out him, & then he’d be taken away. He knew they would. They whispered, schemed. He knew what they thought of him. His friends finally saw him for who he really was. They’d leave him at any moment now. They were getting fed up with him. Sammy, Grant, even Wally started becoming suspicious. They hated him. He knew it.

    When was the last time he didn’t cry himself to sleep? Days? Months? Years? The marks were becoming more visible, people would start noticing. And Jo-jo just couldn’t take any of it any longer. In his last days he spent all his time reading, preparing. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. Some here to disappear the body. This here to erase everyone’s memories. Everyone would be better of without him after all, right?

    On the day he chose, a full moon, when its influence would strengthen the Earth’s natural magic field, Jo-jo came home after work to the pentagram already set up. He went about lighting candles, setting out certain objects. Then, once all was ready, he reached for a knife, the incantation, one of his own, ready on the tip of his tongue. The blade went up to his neck, glinting in the candle light. Then it slid, slowly, almost delicately against Jo-jo’s neck, teasing at the skin. Blood trailed down the expanse of his neck, red coating his fingers. Before he realised it, his body hit the floor. Before he truly left the world, he hears his door opening. It creaked, a shadow fell over him, & scream barely there in his cloudy mind. Then, he lost consciousness.


	22. 22. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look, peeps. I’m a sucker for the found family trope. Just, a group of characters that have come together through certain circumstances & will stick through thick & thin. Which is basically the premise of my own version of the studio, my own BATIM AU. So, have Jo-jo talking about his little studio family, cause why not?

    The workers of Joey Drew Studios were like a family. At least, that’s what Jo-jo liked to believe. He dearly cared about his workers; he believed himself to be a good friend with quite a few of them. Of course, there were some he got along better with.

    Like Sammy. They had always been the best of friends, BFFs since childhood. Jo-jo would rather be stuck in that cursed wheelchair of his for the rest of his life, then say that Sammy & him weren’t best friends. 

    Or Wally. Wally had looked up to him. The janitor was almost like a son to him, even if they were very close in age. But no wonder, Jo-jo had helped him out when he was in a rather rough spot, becoming the good father figure the kid desperately needed. 

    Jo-jo believed Miss Susie liked him. They both seemed very interested in biology & adjacent sciences. She was one of the only people that so excitedly listened to his rambles linking magic & science. Plus, they both had quite the obsession with a certain Bendy character. Susie had that connection with Alice, while Jo-jo himself had always been fascinated by Bendy’s character (all thanks to no one else but Henry.)

    Jo-jo liked Grant. The accountant was very serious, & could be unbelievably sarcastic, but he had on more than one occasion helped Jo-jo out of a stump. He was the voice of reason when the studio head became careless & begun impulsively spending. 

    With Bertrum they started off roughly, but Jo-jo always had a lot of respect for the man. Even if he dumbly called him Bertie on a whim. At least he apologised! And they were on rather good terms ever since. Their debates ranged from arguments to silly trysts between good friends. Plus, the Brit made tea like no person Jo-jo had ever met.

    Norman & him were good friends too. The man seemed to trust him, & would often share things with him. Such as that one time he overheard two workers planning a heist (completely by accident, he claimed.) And, Jo-jo had to admit, his sense of humour wasn’t as atrocious as some people claimed it to be. You just had to know what his jokes referenced, & they ended up being pretty funny.

    There was also Thomas. Tom really didn’t seem to like him at first, & it took a lot to get him to warm up. Was it hard? Yes. Was it worth it? Hell yeah. Working along side him was an enjoyable experience, not to mention that Jo-jo never had a better drinking buddy. If you wanted a good drink, Tom was your man. 

    Allison was a sweet young lady. Talented, kind. Jo-jo was very thankful for every instance in which she stood up for him when his other friends laughed. Or maybe she just genuinely didn't get that it was a joke? Well, beside that one time she heard him laugh (& he certainly did not _snort_ when laughing.) Yes, it was nice having someone like Allison as a friend.

    Lacie was the sort of person that didn't take shit from anyone, & they had made it very clear the first time Jo-jo met her. That intrigued him &, once he was on good terms with Bertrum again, he had made an effort to get to know Lacie as well.

    Contrary to popular belief, Shawn didn't begin working at the studio once the demand for merchandise had arose. He was actually one of the original artists that had worked with Henry when one man simply couldn't finish all the work. Jo-jo had liked him even then, truth be told. Did they get on each others nerves? Constantly. Where they good friends? Certainly.

    Jo-jo was, by all means, a loud person. He was loud, rambunctious & joyful. But, & here's the thing, he knew how to get along with the quieter people. Although he never ventured into the sewers (because _stairs_ ), he got along with Jack swimmingly. Plus, unlike with Sammy, they actually had a very similar music taste.

    Finally, there was Henry. His sweet, adorable & amazing Henry. With his silence, his slightly crooked glasses. With his rare smiles & surprisingly loud laughter. If there was one person who most definitely got along well with Jo-jo, it was his husband. The one person that Jo-jo loved the most in the entire world.

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    “Mistah Drew?” Jo-jo snapped his head up, looking into the gray eyes of the bespectacled Ruth Wright, “Didja fall asleep?”

    “What? Heavens no! Asleep with my eyes open? I’m not a snake!” Ruth huffed out a laugh, dropping a stack of papers on his desk & sauntering out. Then he looked up at the clock. Before he knew it, Henry & Wally run into his office.

    “Jo-jo! Ya done?” Wally pulled him out of his chair.

    “The others have already gone ahead.” Henry added. With a smile, Jo-jo let them drag him out of the studio, & towards this time’s designated meeting place, for their monthly  _family_ meeting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, Ruth makes a return cause I love her character.


	23. 23. Nightmare Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, JDS employees playing some Nightmare Run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally couldn’t think of anything else.

    There were multiple sounds of excitement & displeasure coming from the break room when Jo-jo walked past it. Too many, in actual fact.

    “What are you all doing? Why are none of you working?” He barged into the room, where at least half a dozen people sat, glued to their phones. 

    “Noo! I lost!” Wally whined, throwing his phone down onto the table, annoyed. 

    “What in the world is going on?” Jo-jo asked, beyond confused.

    “We’re playin’ Bendy run.” Norman supplied helpfully, the only one not on his phone. On second glance however, he was peeking over Sammy’s shoulder, enthralled by his boyfriend’s game. 

    “What? Bendy run! Have you all gone mad? You’re playing that… that… cash grab! Why?” He burst out.

    “Cause it’s fun.” Norman said, Sammy grumbling something about it being frustratingly addictive, or something along those lines.

    “You’re just mad because you are bad at it.” Henry added. Jo-jo hadn’t even noticed he was there. nestled between Norman & the armrest of the sofa Tom & Wally had specifically gotten for the break room. 

    “I helped make that game!” He protested.

    “An’ yer still awful at it.” Norman snickered.

    “It’s not even fun!”

    “It is! Suuuuuuuper fun.” Wally bounced on his chair, diving for his phone again.  

    “Bloody frustratin’, too, but dat jus’ makes it more fun.” Norman once again added.

    “Frustrating, yeah. Pfft, is that why you ‘dropped’ your phone in the lake?” Sammy snickered.

    “Sammy!”

    “Kidding! I’m just kidding, love!” Yet he didn’t stop chuckling.

    “Yer dead.”

    “Wha… OH SHI…Uh, shoot!” 

    “And it’s not just a cash grab.” Henry added.

    “Yes it is.”

    “A cash grab wouldn't have had so much work put into it.”

    “No, that’s all my fault. I’m unable to half-ass anything.” Jo-jo protested.

    “Ya know, if ya jus’ say yer bad at it, we’ll leave ya alone.” Norman chuckled. That made Jo-jo growl in frustration, promptly storming out of the room. So what if he was bad at it? Bloody profit stunt.

    “I DID IT! FUCK YEAH!” Sammy’s cheers could be heard everyone in the studio.

    “Well done. Ya passed the first level.” Wally piped up, getting an annoyed groan as a response. 

 

 


	24. 24. Crossover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Dragon age: Inquisition has become a new Special Interest of mine alongside Bendy, I’ve decided to write something for this crossover that I’ve actually been thinking about for quite a while now. This all takes place in Thedas, the JDS Crew gets teleported there thanks to Joey’s magic, & we call this the BATIM in Thedas AU. This literally is just a random snippet from this AU. Also this AU was also theprojectionistfallsflat's idea.

    That morning, Jo-jo was waken up by a big, fat dollop of dew dropping right onto his forehead. Followed by a rough, rock hard pillow being smacked across his face.

    He shot up with a very undignified shriek of, “DORIAN!” The mage, in question, chuckled, dropping his weapon in Jo-jo’s lap.

    “I’ve woken him up for you, Henry.” He called outside, before promptly being tackled by Jo-jo.

    Jo-jo had put Dorian in a surprisingly effective choke-hold just as Henry had walked into the tent, “What?” The quiet animator-turned-warrior stared at the pair of mages, cocking his head.

    “Hello, love. Nothing to worry about here.” Jo-jo chuckled. He yelped as Dorian kicked him in the leg, before collapsing atop his friend.

    “Ah! Get off! You’ll ruin my clothes!” Dorian whined.

    “Can’t,” Jo-jo protested, trying to get his arms underneath him,” Quit squirming!”

    Henry carried on watching them, waiting until they were properly tangled up before speaking up, “Do you want me to get Bull?”

    “NO!”

    “Oooh. Dori! You don’t want you  _boyfriend_  to see you with another m… ACK!” Jo-jo squealed as the pillow made contact with his face again, throwing him right off Dorian.

    “He’s not my boyfriend!” The other mage hissed.

    “You sound awfully like Norman when he & Sammy first begun dating.” Jo-jo held in a snort at the murderous glare Dorian shot Henry. The animator grinned at him, before moving out of the tent again. Through the slightly ajar tent flap, they could see him taking the place between The Iron Bull & Inquisitor Telum Trevelyan. Telum was quite busy conversing with one Cremisius Acclasi (who they low-key had a crush on.), so Henry turned to talk to Bull. At some point, Norman walked up to them, handing Henry a bowl with whatever was for breakfast that day. The two mages saw the projectionist’s whole face flush red when Henry told him something, while Bull dissolved into booming laughter. 

    “I sometimes completely forget Henry has the capacity to be an absolute bastard.” Jo-jo hummed. Dorian nodded in agreement.

    “Did you two get stuck here or something?” Susie popped her head in, accidentally knocking her forehead against the staff she was holding.

    “Oof. Are you ok?” Dorian stood up, pushing her back out of the tent.

    “Ah. Yeah. Dumb thing. I wish I could have something more like Sammy.” She threw the staff onto her back, looking back at the blonde. Sammy was sitting alongside Blackwall & Varric, showing Wally how to properly strum a banjo. Cole stood beside Wally, also very curios.

    “Sammy’s just special like that. That banjo means a lot to him. It’s pretty much fully charged with love, which makes it a frankly  _amazing_  magic conductor!” Jo-jo rambled, pulling himself out of the tent. 

    “Is that why you use your walking stick as a staff?”

    “What? This thing?” He held up the ebony cane. It was of a very good quality, with a round, reddish knob at the top that was made of sandstone. Plus a pair of dog tags that hang off it, “The staff itself isn’t the conductor, my dear. A staff, is simply an extension of the mage, much like a sword is an extension of the soldier. It’s the focus at the end that actually channels the magic. That’s why, for example, Dorian here has a skull at the end of his staff. It’s a specific necromancy focus.”

    “How do you know all this?”

    Jo-jo shrugged, “I read a lot. Plus, I’ve actually had a hand in making the focus for my cane so I know what I’m talking about.” He smiled brightly at her.

    Susie giggled, You’re such a nerd, Jo-jo. It’s cute.” Jo-jo reveled in the compliment. He was indeed a nerd, & he didn’t see anything wrong with it.

    “You three, eat! We’re heading out soon.” Telum called to them. No one them were particularly in the mood that day to oppose the Inquisitor, so they all moved over to the rest of the group, a mix of the Joey Drew Studio’s Crew & the Inquisition’s Inner Circle. Dorian, unsurprisingly, shooed Henry away to sit beside Bull, while the animator scampered off to sit in his husband’s lap. Susie, meanwhile, sat beside Allison, who was talking with Blackwall about some new sword techniques.

    “Morning, Ángelita.” Susie chirped.

    “Oh. Susie!” Allison threw her arms around the other woman, pressing a little kiss to her forehead.

    “What does ‘anhalita’ mean?” Krem leaned over to Telum. Telum shrugged, it was probably something in that Latin language Jo-jo constantly talked about.

    “It means ‘angel’, but in a cute way.” Cole popped up between them, eyes hidden by his hat. Telum nodded at him in thanks, as Krem jumped back, hand to his chest. 

    “You ok there, Krem-puff?” Bull asked with a chuckle. On the other side of the fire Henry begun laughing, falling right onto Jo-jo’s lap. Krem grumbled something as he sat back beside the Inquisitor, he sympathetically patted him on the shoulder.

    “Hurry up now. We really need to head out soon.” Telum reminded them. Within half an hour, everyone was ready. Weapons on their backs, horses saddled. They were on the road after 10 minutes, off to their next destination in saving Thedas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Telum is by far my favourite Inquisitor that hadn’t been based on a BATIM character, so I added them to this. & yes, I ship them with Krem. So, who wants to talk to me about my Inky?


	25. 25. Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part 3 of my mini trilogy. Trigger warning for hospitals, by the way.

    Jo-jo was in & out of conscience constantly. In some moments he was dreaming: dreaming of the past & of how happy he was back then. In other moments he could hear voices & feel someone’s gentle touch, whether on his cheek or in his hair. When he wasn’t conscious he felt lonely, & tired. Jo-jo felt that emptiness seep into him again, tell him how alone he was. When he was conscious, he was also lonely. He could hear the voices, he listened to them, but, unable to respond, it was as if he was alone. Then he finally gained enough piece of mind to understand them. There three voices that were basically a constant, with others fleeting here & there. One of the three voices was quite clearly Wally. He was always telling jokes & laughing, before always dissolving into tears within minutes. Jo-jo wished he could comfort the kid, do more then just lay there as Wally cried into his side. He didn’t deserve to be sad over a mistake like him. There was also Norman, who didn’t come as often as the other two. Jo-jo didn’t blame the projectionist, they had grow apart over the last few years. But he still came, surprisingly, & talked to him, told him of everything that had happened in the world. Sometimes, he’d even hold him hand, a reassuring presence beside him. Sammy was the most prominent voice, practically always there at his side, it seemed. The music director told Jo-jo about what happened, how the three of them came to visit, just in the nick of time, barely able to save him. Jo-jo resented Sammy for that, for saving him. For forcing him to carry on living, to chance being thrown in the loony bin. For making him live with the numbness, making him feel so alone, so lonely. With no one there, no one to love & be loved by.

    He wasn’t sure how long exactly he was there, must have been at least a few days, when he heard Sammy again bring up what had happened. His fingers were carding through Jo-jo’s hair as he talked.

    “I always had a hard time understand you, Jo-jo. What exactly would you get out of erasing your existence? No one would remember you. Is that what you wanted, old friend? To be forgotten? Why?” He sounded sad, overwhelmingly sad. That tightness in his voice didn’t suite Sammy. Jo-jo felt a tear land on his cheek, not one of his he was certain, & he thought that Sammy didn’t deserve to cry. It didn’t suite him either.

    “Hey, Sammy.” That was Norman, Jo-jo wasn’t aware he had came.

    “I just don’t understand it, Norman. What could possibly lead him to erase everything?” Never in his life before did Jo-jo feel such an overwhelming urge be able to speak, to just speak up & explain to Sammy everything.

    “He lost it, simply as dat,” Jo-jo would have cringed at the completely unbothered tone Norman said that with, he was able to move, “It was bound ta happen. Jus’ wish we could’ve noticed sooner, help ‘im out somehow. Be there fer ‘im.” 

    “Me too.”

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    It must have been at least a week since that one instance. Jo-jo constantly mulled it over in his head, his self-hating brain trying to find every way in which Sammy & Norman’s words could have meant more than the simply fact that they  _cared_ for him. It was on that day a week later when Jo-jo was finally able to open his eyes, only to be met with the bleak room of a hospital. He wasn’t quite sure what else he expected.

    “Oh my god! He’s awake!” Wally shrieked from beside him, making Jo-jo cringe.

    “Wally. Don’t.” He tried weakly croaking out bet couldn’t quite get it all out, when he was suddenly tackled by three whole bodies.

    “Never pull shit like that again, Drew.” Sammy got up right in his face, shaking his finger in warning. Then he went back to hugging him. Somewhere, in a corner of his mind, he realised that, maybe someone did care about him enough to miss him if he was gone. He leaned his head against Norman’s, & thought that through. They stopped him from ending his life, took him to a hospital so that he could heal, wished they could have prevented it, cried over him,  _worried_ about him. Maybe he did feel lonely still, the sort of thing he was going through didn’t just give up & leave. But maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t so alone any longer.


	26. 26. Fave AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts when Sammy moves into a new town & his new neighbour is Norman. Henry & Joey are their cats who are really gay for each other. The gay cats eventually bring the two gays together. Lacie (who is genderfluid & uses she/they) is also Norm’s sister in this & Bert is her boyfriend & they both try to help Norman out. Meanwhile, Jack has come to visit Sammy & is also trying to help him ask Norman out. But it’s the cats that ultimately get them to date each other. This is only the beginning to that AU as it does take a while for Norman & Sammy to actually meet face to face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favourite AU is mine & theprojectionistfallsflat’s Siren AU. However, I’ve already wrote something for it for Mermay.
> 
> I also love this one this one AU where Jo-jo is a shapeshifter. But, I’ve decided to do the Cat Matchmakers AU. Basically, this AU is really dumb & silly.

    Sammy stared down at his cat. Joey (or Jo-jo as almost all of his friends called him) was a black furred ragdoll, with a wonky paw, impaired sense of balance, & a brown, mustache-like pattern under his nose. He scrambled up Sammy’s chest, bumping his head against Sammy’s chin. Massive, green eyes stared back at him, deep, rumbly purrs shaking the whole cat.

    “You are a very naughty feline, Joey,” Sammy grumbled, booping his little, pink nose, “Bastard, I saw you humping the neighbour’s cat yesterday. Dumb fluff ball, he’s a boy. You won’t be multiplying today. No soul sucking, mini cat demons running around this time.” Joey purred again & rubbed up against his owner. Sammy couldn’t believe that he had barely finished moving in & already his hell spawn cat was causing problems. In moments like those he often wondered if he should have listened to Wally when he called Jo-jo a demon. But then he remembered how sad & lonely the little runt had been, & how likely it was the disabled kitty wouldn’t get adopted, & Sammy would hug the cuddle-bug a bit tighter, kissing the top of his furry head. Plus, it wasn’t as if Wally’s remark was a negative thing. On the contrary, he was the one egging Sammy to adopt Joey the most.

    “Prrr.” Sammy looked down at the furball, happily sprawled out with all four limbs plus tail sticking out at odd angles. Maybe it was time to get his demon castrated? Just in case?

~~==~~==~~==~~

    Norman was busy checking under Henry’s tail, when the brown-furred munchkin hissed at him. Norman jumped back at that, holding his hands up in a ‘you won’ gesture, realising he had crossed a boundary with his usually docile kitty. 

    “Nope. Definitely a boy,” He hummed, turning towards the stairs, “Lacie! Can cats be gay?” 

    There was a short silence before his sister answered him, “Did ya also see dat cute blond’s demon hump Hen?”

    “YA SAID YA WERE AT YER BOYFRIEND’S YESTERDAY!” He fumed. Can’t he have the house to himself for once?

    “HEY! I CAME BACK EARLY CAUSE BERT HAD A FAMILY EMERGENCY!” Norman stuck his tongue out at her, not that she saw it, all the way up in her room.

    “Mrp?” Henry purred, rubbing up against Norman. The man gladly stroked his kitties little head, picking him up & setting him on his shoulders. Henry gave him a little kiss, he liked feeling tall.

    “That mean cat didn’t hurt ya, did he? He wouldn’ dare.” Norman cooed to him. Henry cooed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s only a snippet so far, but I’m planning to post the full thing on my AO3 one day. I would count this as like, the end/middle of the first chapter.


	27. 27. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorta short. Wanted to turn it into a poem but that failed. So have this ficlet instead.

    He no longer felt in control. He wasn't sure if anyone was in control anymore. Henry never really liked puppets, yet even he had to agree that he felt like someone else was pulling on his strings. It had to have been the third loop since he remembered that he realised that. He wasn't sure how many loops he lived through until sepia turned black & white & he remembered. Hundreds, maybe thousands of loops, constantly the same thing happening over & over. Everything always happened so fast, barely leaving him anytime to process it all. Maybe that was for the better? This way he wouldn’t have to dwell on the horrors he had been through, of the nightmares that would haunt him for the rest of time.

    He knew that Joey was the one controlling him, who else would it be? He remembered, finally remembered in what felt like years, seeing the story boards in his house. And no matter what he did, no matter how many ink creatures he cut down, how many times he destroyed the demon, he was never able to cut the strings that bound him to this hellish version of his old studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's literally a word below 200, ha!


	28. 28. Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have another poem! It originally started with a short paragraph but I like how it turned out.

    There came a knocking at the door. 

    Once, twice. 

    Three, four.

    No one answered, & yet the knocking wouldn’t stop. 

    Five, six. 

    Seven, eight. 

    The noise reverberated in the small room.

    It sounded louder than it really was.

    Nine, ten.

    Eleven, twelve.

    Still, no one answered. 

    Thirteen, fourteen.

    Still, the knocking persisted. 

    Fifteen, sixteen.

    Seventeen.

    Eighteen.

    Nineteen.

    Twenty.

 

    The demon smashed the Projectionist’s head right through the door. 

    Henry dropped down to the floor.

    He whimpered at Norman’s pitifully sad whine.

    There was a loud crack & his light went out. 

    Outside, the demon dropped the remains of the other ink creature.

    But he left the head inside the Miracle station. 

    The knocking faded with the ink demon’s footsteps.


	29. 29. Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, have some Sammy feels.

    It was when he dreamt that he remembered; was reminded of the time before the ink. It was when he dreamt that he felt most content, surrounded by friends & doing the one thing he loved the most. Sometimes in his dreams, he was on stage. He was charming the crowd, the whole world, with his music. The crowd would cheer, throwing roses & bouquets his way. Often he’d be joined by Susie, her beautiful voices carrying over the heads of their fans.

    Sometimes, he was dreaming of the studio. He’d see Norman up n his booth, Jack sitting beside him. A part of him would whisper that his friend had come up specifically to listen to  _him_ , & it always made a smile break out onto his face. He’d turn towards the band & they’d play, play like they never had before.

    Often, he would dream of being at home. He’d be sitting at his desk, when a cat would jump onto his lap. He knew the cat was his, his & his partner’s, whoever that happened to be in that particular dream. No matter who it was, they’d always walk into his room at some point, wrapping their arms around his neck. They’d place a kiss to his cheek, ask how he was doing, make him smile. Then, when he woke up alone, back in the studio, he’d cry at the loss of his lover’s warmth. 

    He never had nightmares, which he thanked his lord for. His waking hours were a nightmare enough for him. But his dreams never were enough. He wished, he  _yearned_ , for them to be real. He hoped to fall asleep & wake up human, or not wake up at all. He wanted to be free of his living nightmare & just dream, & dream, & dream.

    When that wolf put an axe through his head, Sammy couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with him. After all, now he’d get all of eternity to dream. That is, until the next loop.


	30. 30. Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Personal headcanon incoming: Joey loves kids & the studio worked on child entertainment not because of corporate greed. Plus, he’s great father material. Hence this.

    “Tell me another, uncle!” The young girl begged. Behind her, rummaging in a cupboard, her old, lonely uncle chuckled.

    “I think that’s enough stories for today. Time for bed.” He produced a cookie jar from the cupboard, presenting one to the pouting child. Her face lit up for the moment, the want for a new story forgotten in the face of a chocolatey, cinnamon treat.

    “Thank you!” She squealed, mouth full of cookie. She wasn’t often allowed to have sweets before bed time.

    “You welcome, kiddo.” Her uncle chuckled, ruffling her hair & picking her up. She squirmed momentarily then settled down. The position she chose was hell on his old bones yet he grabbed his cane & carried her upstairs. To the guest room they went, where the young child shimmied into her pajamas & under her covers.

    “Will you read me another story tomorrow?” She asked, looking up at him hopefully.

    “No. I’m sorry. Your dad is coming to pick you up in the morning.” He gave her a sad, but somewhat reassuring smile, that was really meant for him.

    “Aww,” She sighed, then lay back down anyway,

    “Unless you want to tell him you’re staying with me a little bit longer.” He joked.

    “No,” She laughed, “I don’t want dad to be sad. Hehe.”

    “Your choice, kiddo. I’m way more fun than that guy.”

    “Night, uncle Joey!”

    “Hehe. Sweet dreams, kid.”

~~==~~==~~==~~==

    “Another, papa. Tell me another.” The young girl climbed onto her father’s lap, brandishing the fourth story of the night.

    “This one?” He asked, looking the book over.

    “Yes! It’s my favourite.” She squealed, hugging the book to her chest. It was her favourite, so much so that her parents had it illustrated & bound.

    “Is it, now? I wouldn’t have guessed! I’ve only read it to you like a thousand times.” She giggled at his antics, poking him.

    “Read it, papa!”

    “Alright. Last one for today. Your dad will be very sad if he finds out you’re still awake when it’s your bed time.”

    “No. I don’t want dad to be sad.”

    “Then we gotta read this one really fast.”

    “Speed reading.”


	31. 31. Free day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As I have given a bit of time to most of my ships, I also wanted to dedicate at least one day to my favourite BATIM polyship. & I know I’ve done something for Norman x Sammy x Jack before, but that’s not the polyship I’m talking about. I actually mean what I liked to call the Music Band, a.k.a Norman x Sammy x Susie x Allison. Cause Susie x Allison is prolly the best lesbian ship I’ve ever shipped & Sammy x Norman is just such a fountain of angst, but Sammy x Susie is prolly the only straight canon (well, semi, cause it was only nodded at) that I’ll ever properly be invested in. So, they’re all together. Sammy & Susie are married, Susie is dating Allison, & Sammy is dating Norman. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I got the prompt from polyshipprompts, but I found a few We liked so thanks theprojectionistfallsflat for helping me choose.

    “Chocolate is better.”

    “Chocolate? It’s so bitter! Fruit ice cream are better.”

    “What? The ones with bits? Are you out of your mind?”

    “That’s what’s good about them.”

    “Ice cream isn’t supposed to have bits!”

    “Then how can you get nut ice cream or cake flavoured ice cream with bits.” 

    “That’s because having bits of nut in peanut butter is normal, Alli!” Sammy protested, waving his ice cream around instead of eating it, “And chocolate ice cream isn’t  _bitter_.”

    “It  _is_ bitter.” She argued, thrusting her ice cream into Sammy’s face.

    “It  _isn’t_.”

    “It  _is_.”

    “Isn’t.”

    “Is.”

    “Isn’t.”

    “IS.”

    “ISN’T.”

    “IS.”

    “ISN’T.”

    “Aren’t they both just amazing.” Susie sighed, gazing lovingly at her husband & girlfriend bickering, her bubblegum lolly completely forgotten & dripping onto the ground, where a random puppy licked it up.

    “Mhm.” Norman hummed, taking little nibbles of his pistachio ice cream, intently petting the frisky pup while his owner was ordering their own ice cream.

    “I could just watch them all day.” She added, placing her chin in her hand as the puppy yapped at her, trying to get the rest of the lolly off the stick while she was distracted.

    “Sure. Me too.” Norman nodded, only half listening as another dog trotted up to nose at his hand.He stroked that one too, carding his fingers through the shih tzu’s soft hair.

    “Like, they’re both really hot, aren’t they? So gorgeous.” At that point, their argument had gotten so intense, Sammy had a cone in his hair & Allison was cleaning ice cream off of her tank top. By licking it.

    “Yeah.” Norman was sat on the ground, surrounded by at least half a dozen dogs, petting them all with a content smile, his ice cream being finished of by the same rascal that had taken the rest of Susie’s ice cream.

    “Ok, we’re going home now.” Sammy cut in, licking strawberry ice cream off his fingers.

    “Aww. But we didn’t even eat our ice cream.” Allison protested.

    “I’m sure Susie & Norman did at least.” Sammy turned to the two, well, to Susie. Norman was no where in sight.

    “Hmm?” Susie looked up, seeing Sammy look at her. She flashed him a smile & brought her lolly to her mouth, only to realise only the stick was left.

    “Where’s Norman?” Allison looked around. It wasn’t easy to loose a guy his size, unless he specifically wanted to be lost. They were on a date, however. Then there was a loud bark & everyone turned to the wriggling mass of wagging tales & multi coloured fur.

    “Norman?” 

    “Not the neck!” The man squealed from underneath the puppy pile as a Dobermann gave his neck a taste.

    “At least he’s having fun.” Susie remarked, now saddened at the fact she had let her lolly melt. 

    Sammy knelt beside Norman, “Hey, sweet cheeks. Get up. We’re going home.”

    “Aww!”

    “You have some ice cream on your face, Ángelita.” Susie remarked, kissing the imaginary spot of ice cream away, making Allison giggle.

    “Thanks, Blondie.”

    “Don’t call me  _that_!” Susie grimaced, making her girlfriend only laugh harder.

    “Ready to go home?” Sammy asked. helping Norman up.

    “Yup.”

    “Yeah.”

    “Noo! The puppies.” Norman whined. 

    “We have a cat at home.” Susie reminded him.

    “Dori would be jealous if he heard you preferred dogs to him.” Allison added.

    Norman stared her down, “How dare ya insinuate I like anyone bettah than Dori?”

    “Well then let’s get going back to him.”

    “Awright. Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was trying to spell knelt as kneeled & was wondering why the autocorrect wasn’t showing me the proper spelling.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Double Husbands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19975861) by [Booker_DeShit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booker_DeShit/pseuds/Booker_DeShit)




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